


It's Not That Simple

by Golden_Au, TKWolf45



Series: Simple series [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Don't copy to another site, Explicit Sex, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Angst and Whump, M/M, Mpreg, Multi, NSFW, Non-con touching, Not Canon Compliant, Part 1, Polyamory, Romance, Self-Mutilation, Soul mutilation, TRIGGERING SCENES, Torture, Whump, emotional torture, implied sex, implied/references rape/noncon, psychological torment, sans/sans - Freeform, slow-burn happy ending, soul torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2020-05-16 16:59:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 64
Words: 231,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19322347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Golden_Au/pseuds/Golden_Au, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TKWolf45/pseuds/TKWolf45
Summary: What happens when two writers come together to write a polyamory about four powerful skeletons? Well… this!(There will be additional warnings on the chapters, where necessary, but please keep the tags in mind, and enjoy!)





	1. Hehe Booty Calls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Para español, visite [It's Not That Simple (Traducida)](https://www.wattpad.com/story/205735604-it%27s-not-that-simple-traducida). La traducción (y el arte) es por soullessemo25 (Wattpad) mientras que la historia todavía es por Golden_Au (AO3) y TKWolf45 (AO3).
> 
> \------
> 
> As you are reading, please do enjoy and comment, but please _do not_ repost our work to another website without permission!
> 
> So far, we have only authorized one person (Soullessemo25 on Wattpad) to post a translated version of this and nobody else. If you have any questions, feel free to ask either of us! We do have the 'do not repost' tag on this fic, and we would appreciate if you do see someone who has posted our work somewhere, to let us know. It hasn't been a problem with this fic series yet, but we are taking a proactive attempt to prevent this! 
> 
> Thank you very much and please enjoy!

Geno drummed his fingers against the table in annoyance. It wasn’t like his brother to ignore his calls! Maybe he should- “Oh Error!” Geno scrambled to his feet, though he was alone in the living room. “Good I need you to help me with this! What was the stitch pattern again for Goth’s toy?” 

“G-Geno can’t this- ah! W-wait??” Error’s voice sounded like he ran a marathon! Or was still running one? 

“No it can’t-! Is that a bed frame squeaking? Oh gods, oh I’m so sorry, it can wait, it can _definitely_ wait, have fun~!” Geno couldn’t hang up fast enough. His face burned in embarrassment as he stared down at his phone. Of course it wasn’t his business what his brother did! And wow, Geno really- he didn’t know how to feel! 

“I’ll just wait to call him!” 

He occupied his time cleaning up the house, making food for Goth and himself, preparing snacks and meals for Reaper when his job takes him longer. When Goth drifted off, Geno thought about how long it’s been since he’d seen his husband. Sure, it was this morning, but… that was so _long_ ago! 

_Oh! Maybe I can call Error back about the doll repairs?_ Geno pulled out his phone and called again. When the call connected, he eagerly spoke, “Okay I waited! So about that stitch pattern- is… is the bed frame still squeaking?!” 

Error’s breath sounded ragged, “S-stop calling!” 

“STOP PICKING UP!” 

Ink was cackling on the other end, “Hiya Geno! I answered the call!” 

“H-hi…! Ink…! ERROR CALL ME BACK WHEN YOU’RE DONE!” and Geno slammed his phone between the cushions. His skull couldn’t get any redder. At least, he hoped not. _Oh my gods…!_ Geno needed a distraction. Anything! 

And that’s when Reaper decided to show up. He shut the door and floated into the living room to see a bright-red-faced Geno with his hand still shoving his phone between the cushions. “Oh my~?” 

“N-no! It’s not what it looks like-!” 

Reaper chuckled and floated closer, “Not what what looks like, love?” 

Geno grabbed a pillow from behind him, bringing it forward and hugging it for dear life. A shield between him and his conflicted emotions. 

Reaper could always see straight through him though. He stopped his teasing advance and sat down besides him. He opened his arms, tilted his head, and asked softly, “Do you want a hug?” 

“M-maybe a little more… I missed you…” 

A light blue blush settled across Reaper’s cheekbones. _Gods, he was so adorkable…_ “Allow me to relax you…” 

Some uncertain time later, Geno’s phone started ringing. Geno whimpered, scrambling to turn it off before Reaper could reach it, but it wasn’t between the cushions anymore. 

Reaper winked at Geno and answered his phone, “Okay!” the voice on the other end said, “So now that I’m not, uh, indisposed, let me tell you the-” 

Geno cried out at an unexpected move of Reaper’s. 

“Oh, hi Error! Geno’s busy at the moment!” Reaper blinked at the dial tone. “Oh he hung up? What a shame, he didn’t even get to talk to you!” 

“Y-you’re an- ah! I-idiot…!” 

Reaper leaned close and murmured against his mouth, “I’m _your_ idiot~!” 

“D-Dumbass…!”

——

Reaper and Ink met up for coffee a few days later. Both had texted each other, noting how often their husbands were talking on the phone about stitch this and pattern that! It was adorable!

And so incredibly frustrating. 

Were they trying to punish Reaper and Ink for something? 

So the two met up over some obnoxiously colored Unicorn Frappes to discuss it. 

Well, it had started that way… but then Ink got distracted and was asking Reaper about his line of work. And Reaper started telling Ink stories. Stories the artist didn’t seem to be paying attention to as his pencil danced across one of his sketchbooks. Reaper had paused in the middle of this one story to peer at what the artist was doing (It was a shame, because there was this human that pissed off a god and became a spider, only for someone to step on the spider, and have the spider’s soul called out to Reaper. It was quite interesting to Death the Elder!) 

Ink was sketching the story. 

He looked up at Reaper’s silence. “What happened then?” 

But the God was too busy… admiring. The sketch, the artist, the atmosphere… he realized that the only other person that made him feel this way was his husband, Geno. 

And that snapped him back into focus. 

“N-never mind. So we have our plan with teasing the boys, let’s start today!” 

Ink blinked several times and checked on his scarf before laughing. “Oh right! Yeah of course!” Ink started packing up his things while Reaper threw the extra cups away. _Wow he really does drink a lot of coffee… maybe he should be worried about that?_ “Hey, Reaper?” 

Reaper turned towards Ink, smiling, “Yeah?” 

“I get the feeling that it isn’t just me… but I know I need to ask first. Are we… just friends? Or is there more lurking under our bones?” 

Reaper stared openly at the artist. He was… refreshingly blunt! And… correct… “No, we are just friends,” Reaper nodded firmly. _Yeah. No other feelings. I’m married for crying out loud! Definitely nothing else…_

Ink nodded slowly. “Yeah… alright.” The God couldn’t get a feel for the artist’s emotions or expressions or anything. His head was too turned down and away for him to tell what he was thinking either. He turned and smiled. “Alright, until next time then!”

——

Reaper came home with a distant gaze. Geno had taken care of all the house chores: laundry, sweeping, meal prep, dishes. Goth was currently hanging onto Geno’s back while Geno was setting the table and feeding him tater tots. Reaper blinked at the sight, melting slightly. “Hey, Geno…”

Geno whirled around. “Reaper!” Goth tightened his grip around Geno’s neck. 

Goth squealed when Reaper wrapped his arms around Geno and bent down to kiss him. “How was your day going…?” Reaper asked softly. “Did you two miss me?” Goth reached for Reaper’s face, making kissing noises at him. Death chuckled, and kissed his son on the forehead. 

“Of course we missed you! Come sit! Dinner’s already ready!”

The three of them got settled at the table and started eating. Reaper and Geno took turns sharing with Goth. Otherwise, dinner was pretty calm! 

A little… too quiet… 

Geno glanced to his husband, trying to read his expression. Being Death, with literally thousands of years’ practice to school his expression behind a somewhat chilly smile made it hard for Geno. But after his husband had learned most of Geno’s tells, the smaller skeleton poured hours and days and weeks of effort into observing his husband closely for tells. 

And tonight it paid off. 

Usually, when Reaper was relaxed or in a good mood, there was the _slightest_ ring of blue in his sockets. But right now? An empty void. If he hadn’t been moving, he probably would’ve looked like a corpse or something. 

“You had your lunch with Ink today, right?” Geno asked as casually as he could. “How was that?” 

Reaper paused. Well, froze probably would have described his sudden lack of movement. He tried covering it with quirking one side of his grin up higher. “It was fine.” 

_Alright, screw this._ “What happened?” 

“InkandIthinkwemighthavefeelingsforeachotherandIdon’tknowhowtofeelaboutit,” Reaper then shoveled food into his mouth. 

Geno stared, blinking several times. Then he smiled. “Oh really? Have you thought about polyamory?” 

Reaper’s jaw slowed opened, and the food fell out, half-chewed. 

“Hey! Keep your mouth closed when you’re chewing! You’re going to teach Gothy bad manners!” 

Death quickly cleaned up after himself, before turning to Geno, “A-are you…? Are you serious?” 

Geno shrugged, “Yeah, I mean, if Ink and Error are fine with it, I don’t see a reason?”

Reaper struggled to keep his composure. “Y-you… you’re the best thing that ever happened to me… the absolute best.” 

“I know,” Geno grinned at him. “Besides, I kinda think Ink’s hot too. And I caught Error struggling to not stare at you in your more professional meeting clothes.” 

“My suit?” 

“Mmhmm!” 

A light blush dusted Death’s face. “R-really…?” 

“Yeah. A conversation’s all it’ll take right? Worst case scenario, the answer is no and we move on.”


	2. An Interesting Brunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which four idiots go to lunch to talk about their futures...

The other guests at the restaurant felt a… chill down their spines. Subtle bursts of anxiety, the need for self-preservation, inspiration, and fear flowed through each of the guests as the host took the party of four to the far corner of the restaurant. 

The people at the front couldn’t sit anyone near the party, what with the unease the new guests felt near them. Their waitress, though equally as nervous, still muscled up the courage to say hi and get their drinks ordered. 

It wasn’t because the four guests were skeleton monsters! Neither wait-staff nor guests cared if you were monster or human! They just cared that you didn’t bail on paying for your food and tipping your waiter or waitress. 

It was just this… _vibe_ emanating off three of the four of the skeletons… that left everyone feeling restless. 

And that’s why, even when the restaurant went on a wait, the three tables surrounding the four skeletons in the corner remained vacant. But they didn’t seem to care! 

They were engrossed in conversation, all craning their necks to peer at what one of them was scribbling down. Their waitress watched them curiously. She only approached to refill their drinks and ask if they were ready to order. 

The scribe quickly covered his paper with his arms and the four of them looked up quickly at her. She paused, the nervousness increasing slightly in the pit of her stomach. “U-uh… can- can I get you all started on any- any food?” 

The smallest skeleton had a red scarf and a dark red shirt on. He glanced over to the tallest skeleton, who didn’t have his eye lights lit. It was hard to tell where he was looking. He wore a dark hoodie and jeans, of which the waitress suspected is something he just really enjoyed wearing. The taller one shrugged, “It’s up to you, Geno! I wouldn’t mind sharing my fries with you~!” 

The smallest, Geno, looked like he was struggling to not blush. “Error, what do you think?” he turned to the dark skeleton with mismatched eye lights. 

He scoffed, “Something with potatoes. Of course.” 

“Oh, can we get loaded potatoes?” the scribe perked up. He had on so many layers, she was surprised he wasn’t sweating or taking some of them off. 

They glanced at each other and nodded. The waitress wrote it down, “Alright… loaded fries appetizer… Would you like me to give you a few more minutes to look over the menu?” 

“Yes please,” Geno said. 

“Not a problem!” and she went into the back. 

When the four skeletons figured she was out of earshot, they dove back into their conversation… 

Ink carefully leaned off his notes and reread the current agreement, “Okay so Error and I cannot touch Reaper in case we die. Unless we find a way around it. But we are allowed to go out on dates with him. Geno and I can do other stuff so long as both of us consent.” 

Geno tapped the last bullet point, “Change that to person A and person B have to consent.” He glanced around the table at everyone, “If everyone’s alright with everyone doing stuff with the other? If this is making any sense?” 

Reaper wrapped an arm over the back of Geno’s chair, nuzzling the other’s head with his grin. “I’m alright with you doing Ink, so long as Error and Ink are.” 

Geno turned bright red and tried to hide his face with his scarf. Ink, in the middle of correcting the last bullet point, suddenly slipped and watched his pen shoot across the paper. Reaper snickered, earning an elbow to his ribs. 

Error shut his eyes and let out a long sigh. “I’m probably going to live to regret this, aren’t I?” 

“Why would you say that?” Ink tilted his head at him. 

“I dunno… I just feel it-” 

“-In your bones?” Geno wiggled his brow bones at his brother. 

“…” Error shook his head, barely acknowledging that with the slightest of smiles. 

“A quick question,” Reaper leaned towards the middle of the table, exchanging glances with everyone. “Say I’m able to touch you two without killing you. What then?” 

Geno jabbed his phalanges to the last, messily written bullet point. “Consent is key! It would be nice if everyone was made aware before anything happens, but honestly, I’m more concerned about consent.” 

Consent and honest communication kind of go hand in hand! And if the four of them agree and actually stick to consenting and communicating honestly, that leaves more room for everyone to enjoy themselves. 

“What about threesomes?” Reaper tilted his head. 

“No!” Error and Geno snapped simultaneously. 

Error spoke up faster, “Geno and I will not be engaging in bedroom activities like that together. It’s…” 

“… too weird. It’s uncomfortable.” Geno turned to Reaper, “Imagine Pap-” 

“NOPE, I GET IT,” Reaper borrowed the paper and pen from Ink, more like snatched them, and quickly scribbled “no bro homo” below the last bullet. 

“Wait, were you asking if it were me, you and Error, for example?” Ink asked the god. 

“Y-yeah that’s what I meant. Or myself, Geno and you,” Reaper nodded to Ink. 

Ink looked to Error and Geno, who both exchanged glances and shrugged. “Consent first, fun second?” Error said. 

Geno nodded while Ink said, “Sounds fair to me!” before writing that down too. 

The waitress came back with the loaded fries, blinking only twice when Ink quickly covered the paper with his scarf. She slowly glanced away, trying not to be weirded out, “So… can I get you all any refills?” 

“A pot of coffee please, dear!” Reaper grinned. 

Geno whipped his head to him. “How many is that now?!” 

_At least four, and they haven’t even ordered food yet!_ The waitress thought to herself, but simply stayed, smiled, and waited. 

Reaper shrugged, “I dunno… 3? Four? Gonna be five?” he winked to the waitress. 

Still smiling, always smiling, she glanced over to Geno, who sighed and nodded, “Sure, why not, right?” 

“I’ll be right back with that!” and she was gone again. 

Error watched her go this time. “You think… she’s okay?” 

Reaper shrugged. “C’mon, she’s serving a God of Death. I’m surprised she hasn’t passed out yet. Back to our list!” 

“Oh, where should we live? Or should we live together?” Geno picked up a loaded fry and bit into it. 

“I’d rather live with you guys. Ink and I have been trying to find a place, but some of the places we can’t afford-” 

“Legally.” 

“Hey, the money’s legal!” Error argued. 

Ink turned red eye lights onto him, “The way _you_ get the money isn’t! Stealing from other Sanses?” 

“Whaaat? I wouldn’t- nah, not me!” 

“You steal chocolate from Underfell! I don’t think money is below you!” 

“Oh yeah? Well-” 

Reaper held up a hand, “Hold on, did you guys find a place but money’s the issue?” 

Ink turned back towards the table, grabbing several fries and dropping them onto his plate. “Not really? The places we looked at…” 

“Why? Are you trying to be our sugar daddy?” 

Reaper tilted his head to Error, “Mind repeating that last word again?” 

“What, daddy?” a split second had Error pointing his fork at the god. “Ya wanna have a bad time?” 

“A _bed_ time, maybe~!” 

Error sputtered piteously. 

Geno chuckled, “Error, I think you should stop while you’re…” 

“Don’t you _dare_ fucking finish that sentence, you idiot,” Error growled, “Brother or not, I _will_ stab you.” The other three started laughing. Error instead shrunk into his jacket, a light blush on his bones. “You all are idiots…” 

A simultaneous, “We’re _your_ idiots now~!” from the three of them had Error flipping his hood up and trying to learn invisibility. 

Reaper focused back on the topic, “You guys can just stay with us! Geno and I were thinking of renovating the house, and Paps would probably love to have more people to chat with! Besides, we already have 7 rooms. Well, four unoccupied rooms.” 

Ink turned to Error. “It would be nice for Paperjam to have someone to play with… someone his own age.” 

Geno quickly interrupted, “Just to be clear, Paps isn’t our babysitter, he’s Reaper’s brother. So we aren’t going to be dropping our kids off with him.” 

“Wait, who’s taking care of them right now?” Ink asked. 

“Fresh.” 

Error looked up from under his hood and groaned. “Seriously?” 

“Hey, he’s our brother too!” Geno defended. 

“I’m just saying! He told me he was going to teach PJ some _radical lingo_ when I asked him to babysit the first time, and that’s when I stopped asking!” 

“He isn’t really _that_ bad, Error!” Ink tried. 

“Putting a baby into the brightest colors imaginable is not exactly good, Ink!” 

“On the contrary,” Reaper took a fry from the appetizer dish and flipped it at Error, “The kids would be much easier to see in bright colors!” 

Geno snickered. He looked down at the menu, then back at the other three. “What are we getting?”

——

The four of them made it back to Reaper’s and Geno’s house. Reaper decided to give Ink and Error the grand tour.

Meanwhile, Geno decided to relieve Fresh of his babysitting duties…

Geno found the three of them in the play room. Fresh was leaning back against one of the comfortable chairs, his head back, mouth slightly open, and a thin line of drool down one side of his cheek. His sunglasses, reading “ZZZZ”, still covered his sockets. Goth and PJ were curled up in each of his arms, gripping his jacket. Geno paused in the doorway. He quickly pulled out his phone and snapped several pictures from several sides. 

That’s when he noticed how incredibly _messy_ the playroom was. 

Acrylic paint was splattered absolutely _everywhere_. There were hand prints over everything too, including Fresh’s and Goth’s skulls. Geno fiddled with his scarf. He didn’t want to wake any of them, but… well Fresh had told him he had the whole day off… maybe he wouldn’t mind? Geno slowly backed out the room, closing it behind him. 

“What happened in there?” Reaper’s voice whispered next to his skull. 

Geno yelped, whirling around and smacking Reaper on the chest. “Don’t DO that!” he hissed. “Fresh and the kids are asleep in there! I didn’t want to disturb them!” 

Reaper wrapped his arms around Geno’s waist, nuzzling his forehead. “You’re such a kind host.” 

“Ah… compliments… my weakness,” Geno tried hard to sound apathetic, but being engulfed in Reaper’s embrace softened the blow of his words. “How uh… how did Error and Ink like the place?” 

“They already picked a room and crashed.” 

“Which room?” 

At that, Reaper grimaced slightly. “The room right next to us.” 

“What’s with that look?” 

“Well… wouldn’t you feel weird if we decided to…” Reaper’s hands drifted down to Geno’s hip bones and brought him closer, “Have some fun tonight? I mean… we still _could_ …” the god dropped his head down to Geno’s shoulder. The timbre of his voice started to echo through Geno’s bones. And the smaller shivered with it. “…but you’d have to stay _quiet_ … could you do that…?” 

Geno gripped his husband’s robes, exhaling sharply. “Y-you don’t play fair,” he complained. “Besides… Fresh might wake up- ah!” Reaper had moved Geno’s scarf and nipped his collarbone. 

“He won’t if you don’t wake him~!” Reaper winked at Geno and tugged him to their room. 

Laughing quietly, the smaller skeleton followed after him, “You’re a bastard,” but the grins on each of their faces contradicted their words. Anybody paying attention could see how in love these two idiots were. 

Yes… the strongest part of someone is what they share with another person. 

_The strongest… and the weakest._

No one noticed the extra shadow in the ceiling fan vanish.


	3. Death's Touch (soft NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Reaper keeps his distance from everyone... mostly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soft NSFW? What the heck is that??
> 
> It's my shorthand for NSFW sexual content that's basically not as detailed as it _could_ be, but the scene is still there, and honestly, it's more fluff than smut!
> 
> -TKWolf45

It had been almost two weeks since Ink and Error moved in. And it almost seemed like… everyone kept… tip-toeing around each other? It’s like… nobody really knew how to act around the other? 

Papyrus seemed to be the best adjusted from everyone! He woke up one morning, learned from a very apologetic Geno that there were three more guests to be taking up two rooms, and essentially shrugged it off. “GOOD! OUR FAMILY IS GETTING BIGGER BY THE MINUTE! LET ME KNOW IF YOU NEED ME TO BABYSIT!” 

“Oh thank you! But I know you get super focused at work, so don’t worry too much about it, okay?” 

Reaper’s brother simply shrugged, “ALRIGHT, BUT IF YOU NEED ME, JUST KNOW I’LL HAPPILY HELP!” 

There was Error, who was trying to not curse as much, now that there were two children present instead of just one. Goth wasn’t totally sure about Dunkle Error, until he crocheted a snake doll for the little tyke. Goth stared the whole time, and squealed excitedly when the snake doll was given to him. He ran around, shoving the crocheted doll into everyone’s faces. The only one who flinched, nearly smacking the doll from the toddler’s hand, was Reaper. 

Geno was the househusband. He cooked, cleaned, took care of the kids. He quickly got in the habit of making lunches for everyone, since they seemed to have work. Error and Ink even seemed to appreciate the extra steps Geno took to make them feel comfortable! The first few days, they had taken Paperjam with them. 

Except for the fourth day when Paperjam was being especially difficult. Error peeked his head through a portal by Geno. “Geno! Stop screaming it’s just me. Can you please take care of Paperjam for us?” 

“WHY DID YOU TAKE HIM WITH YOU?! I thought he was still asleep in his crib! I was just about to check up on them!” 

“O-oh… whoops?” 

“Hi Geno~!” Ink waved feverently from behind Error. 

With a strained laugh, Geno waved back, “Hi Ink.” He reached through the portal and carefully took Paperjam from Error’s grasp. PJ turned in Geno’s grip to stare at his two dads before reaching for them. 

“No no, your fath- your mother and I…?” Error leaned in through the portal and kissed the toddler on the forehead. “Be good for your uncle, okay? We’ll be back.” 

Geno grinned at his brother. “Aww!” 

Error shot a glare at him. “Not a word.” And he vanished through the portal. 

There was Ink, who spent a lot of time wandering around, making mental notes about colors and stuff that he could be adding to the walls, before promptly forgetting them to take care of Paperjam. Paperjam just really enjoyed throwing things around, making a mess. Ink loved taking pictures of the messes, calling it “Creative Abstract Art!” before cleaning it up. 

Honestly, Ink was only worried about touching Death, and even then, he forgot that pretty quickly. 

Instead, he seemed to be one of the more adjusted skeletons. He even kissed Geno on the teeth as thanks for breakfast! Which came as a surprise to everyone at the table. Ink had looked at all of them, faltering slightly, “W-we agreed, right…?” 

Reaper was the first to nod, “Well, yeah! It’s just… a little surprising, I guess?” 

Geno stared after Ink, blinking several times. His eyelight looked almost star-shaped. 

Error simply shrugged. “Kiss him again, it’s funny to see him this stunned.” 

Which lead to several minutes of Geno and Ink running around the table, both of them squealing and yelling. 

But Reaper?

Reaper was the most _maladjusted._

And it wasn’t anything super obvious! Reaper preferred his subtlety. He was constantly several inches away from everybody. The only time he wasn’t especially subtle was when he flinched away from a rapid movement. It didn’t matter who it was, Reaper would wince or take a step back, if the movement was near him or almost too fast for him to track. Including when it was Geno. 

But he kept his smile, and pretended to be fine. 

Except everyone knew he wasn’t, or at least suspected that he was tense. And it was worse at night. 

Tonight was one such night, where Reaper was laying in bed after a long, lonely shower. He wore his robes and was surfing through his phone absently. It had been nearly the two weeks since Error and Ink had moved in with PJ. Reaper and Geno were too shy to even attempt anything, especially with them in the next room. 

Correction, _Geno_ was too shy. Reaper was in the middle of planning how to nonchalantly avoid touching anybody for tomorrow. 

“Reaps?” Geno’s voice sounded from their walk-in closet. 

“Yeah?” 

“Why are you avoiding all of us? Did we do something?” 

Reaper startled, shutting off his phone. _How the hell did he know…?_ He expected to see his husband when he looked up, but Geno was still rummaging through the closet. “Uh… no you all… didn’t… I just don’t want any _deathly_ accidents, is all,” he chuckled. 

“Maybe we should go to one of your god friends? See if there’s a cure or a temporary fix or something?” 

“There’s no cure for Death,” Reaper chuckled. 

Geno’s laugh sounded. “You’re right! I’m just a freak accident, and Goth is the same.” 

“No that’s not-” Reaper swung his legs around, ready to march into the closet and stop his words. But Geno was already emerging. 

Wearing one of Reaper’s robes. 

And a bright red sash belt. 

It wasn’t his brother’s scarf wrapped around his waist, but a different piece of red cloth, barely keeping Reaper’s robe together on Geno’s formed ecto frame. See, skeleton monsters could form ecto bodies, if they so desired. They could be whatever sex or gender they wanted, and they could choose to have the ecto formed constantly or not. Though they both were referred to as male, and their voices were deeper, like most men, Geno just so happened to be more comfortable forming female parts, while Reaper preferred male. It was something they rarely discussed, but it worked for them. 

Geno looked up to Reaper, who had stopped moving. Stopped breathing. _Gods… he looks so good in our colors…_ Reaper couldn’t stop himself from thinking. Didn’t want to. “What’s the-” he cleared his throat, “Uh, what’s the occasion, Gen?” 

The smaller skeleton didn’t say anything. Instead, he walked the _miles_ towards Reaper. Parted his knees slightly. Stepped between them. Neither of them broke eye contact. Geno walked his hands further back, until Reaper was on his back and Geno crawled above him, supported by his arms and knees above the god. 

“What… was I saying…?” Reaper whispered. 

“You were answering why you’ve been avoiding us…” Geno stroked Reaper’s face, holding him so, so gingerly… Reaper wondered if his counterpart was afraid he would fall apart. Under his hands, the god would’ve been happy to. 

“I… avoiding…? N-no-” the God hummed into the kiss. He brought up his hands, feeling his husband’s ecto just above his sternum. 

“W-wait, Geno-” 

Geno stopped immediately, pulling back too quickly. He blinked a couple times, staring down at the god. “D-did you not…? Oh… hah… hehe… I… I’m sorry I didn’t-” 

“Hang on!” Reaper sat up with Geno’s retreat. Grabbed the smaller’s hands before he could go any further. “Hang on. That’s not what I- hon, of course I want…” he sighed. “Yeah. I’ve been avoiding touching everyone. I don’t want something to happen where they end up dead because of me.” 

“I thought we agreed to talk about this?”

“I’m not used to having so many handsome mates in one place, much less handsome mates interested _in me_. And they could die if I so much as brushed knuckles with them!” Reaper gripped Geno’s hands, clinging to the only person he could touch, besides his own brother, “I just… don’t want to mess this up.” 

“Maybe we _should_ talk to the gods tomorrow then, huh?” 

“Yeah, I think that would- tomorrow?” Reaper slowly smiled. “So…” he cupped Geno’s face with his palms. “About your advances… care to continue?” 

Geno slowly smiled back. “Would you…?” 

“Oh hell yes.” Their skulls met for a kiss. 

Reaper untied Geno’s sash belt easily, and his robe fell to the floor. Geno, on the other hand, pushed up Reaper’s robe and caressed his… thighs? _When did Reaper form his ecto body?_ Geno didn’t really care. 

Instead, he broke off the kiss to climb back into the bed. Reaper untied his own robes, but left the fabric on his shoulders. His eyes trailed after Geno. Watched the smaller skeleton lay with his back to the cushions. He reached forward, grabbed the god by his robes, and dragged the willing party closer. 

The god dipped down, kept eye contact with his husband. Kisses trailed up the inside of one thigh while a hand massaged the other one. Geno let out a soft exhale. So good… His hands were still tangled in the robes, wanting him to be closer. But the god merely chuckled, and the timbre sent shivers through the smaller skeletons bones. 

The taller skeleton paid no heed to the center of Geno’s desire. He bypassed that to trail kisses up the other’s stomach, his chest, his neck. The massaging hand inched closer- only for him to reach up and- away from Geno. The smaller’s whine changed to a gasp when the god nipped his neck. Licked. 

Geno untangled his hands, took his god’s face in one and kissed him. Slow. So slow. Almost lazy. His other hand slipped fabric off Reaper’s shoulder. Enough for the smaller to reach around and feel the base of his wings. Reaper made a noise. Pulled back slightly as if to catch his breath. Geno chased after him. Felt lower and lower until his hand wrapped around the god’s shaft. 

At the same time, Reaper was teasing Geno’s entrance. His newly lubed fingers massaged between Geno’s thighs and into him. Teasing his most sensitive spots. 

Geno lubed his hands too, moved them up and down the god, tempting soft noises from him. Reaper’s hand, busy preparing Geno’s entrance, pulled away. “R-Reaps, no, c-c’mon…” _He wanted… he needed him…!_

“Did you really miss me that much…?” Reaper purred. Betrayed by the blue blush forming across his cheekbones. He wrapped his fingers around Geno’s thighs, massaging the insides with his thumbs. Lazy. The movements were- URG! 

It drove Geno _crazy!_

But… Reaper wasn’t the only one with leverage. 

Geno slowed down his movements. He watched every minute change in Reaper’s expression. He saw the moment the taller skeleton realized what he was doing. Geno wrapped his hands around the other’s waist, feeling the sensitive ecto above his floating ribs. Moved back to cup his ass cheeks in a massage. He copied the god with the slow, circular movements. Until Reaper’s grin became strained. “G-Geno…” 

“Yes… Reaps, please…” 

They joined, moved together, closer and closer. Neither of them wanted to break the tranquility and intimacy, but it was too slow a pace. Geno started moving faster, fingers digging into the ecto below the other’s wings. Reaper matched him. Both of them moving in sync with each other. They swallowed each others’ moans and gasps with kisses up until-

They shuddered with the waves of euphoria. Reaper moved off Geno, but intertwined their fingers together and held him close. Geno happily cuddled, murmuring, “We should… shower and change the sheets…” 

Reaper chuckled. “In a bit.” 

They stayed for several minutes, cooling down. And when Geno moved, Reaper went too. 

Washed up in the shower, taking the sheets off and remaking the bed, curling up into each other’s arms again. 

Ideal. His life was ideal. 

They fell asleep, wrapped in each others’ arms.

——

Reaper was gently woken up with the delicious smell of breakfast. Well, it wasn’t particularly close. It was still being made downstairs, but oh! That sounded _so good!_ He stretched, curling closer to the warmth that still lay with him. “Mmm… good morning love…”

“…” 

Reaper chuckled. Starting off grumpy today, are we…? The god nuzzled his head, murmuring, “I’ll make it worth your while~!” He opened his eyes and- 

_No-_

_Oh gods what-_

_He…_

_He killed-!_

Question marks popped into the smaller skeleton’s eyes. _Question marks?_ “Reaper? What’s the matter?” 

Reaper blinked several times, looked over their tangled limbs, then back to his face. “I-Ink…?!”


	4. Paint the Room (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some tensions get released, heh.

“I-Ink…?!” Reaper was staring at the other skeleton. 

With the exception of his shoes, Ink was still wearing all his clothes. Even the sash with all the paints in them. Speaking of, Ink took sips from each of them, blinked several times, then stared back. “Reaper?” his question marked eye lights turned into an exclamation point and crossbones. “Why are you in my room?! Am I… am I dead…?” 

_Oh that’s adorable, are the crossbones me?_ Reaper shook his head, _now is not the time!_

They looked down, seeing how their entire bodies were curled up facing each other. Legs tangled… arms wrapped around each other… Ink’s forehead touched against Reaper’s chest when he looked down, and now he looked up. “Wait… is… heh… is your Death Touch supposed to take a while to activate or something?” 

Reaper’s horrified expression slowly melted into… Ink tilted his head, _what was that?_ “Want to find out?” Reaper asked huskily. 

Ink’s grin slowly widened. “I’m… not dead!” his eyes turned to stars. “I’m not going to die from you touching me. Reaper!” Ink pulled himself up Reaper’s body, kissing him. 

_Woah…_ The artist’s kiss was so different from Geno’s, and the god’s from Error. And for a second, they broke apart and stared at each other. Were they-? Did they really want to do this? To **do** each other? The four of them had agreed that so long as everyone consents, there wouldn’t be a problem…

The god was the first to move, hesitantly kissing Ink again. It was a question. And a chance for the artist to say no. They could stop now. Go downstairs to the food smell and say hi to the kids- 

The artist kissed back. An answer… mostly. His hands started to roam over Reaper’s bared bones... Ink rolled Reaper onto his back, straddling his hips. Reaper huffed, staring up at the bold artist. His own hands were feeling Ink’s body through his clothes. _Gods, why does he have so many layers!_ Ink leaned forward, murmuring, “Do you want us to continue this…?” 

“Y-” Reaper tried to control the sudden squeak in his voice. “Yes.” _Why was he so nervous?! Or… is he actually excited…?_ It was hard to tell. His soul would’ve thrummed faster all the same. 

Ink’s hands were massaging Reaper’s chest. He was smiling. His eyelights changed with one arrow up and one arrow down, “Do you prefer top or bottom…?” 

Reaper growled, “I always top,” he grabbed the artist by his waist ~~startled momentarily to feel the ecto already formed under the clothes~~ and flipped them. Ink wrapped his legs around Reaper, grinning at his next words, “Which surprised me that I was below you.” 

“You always top, huh?” Ink licked his teeth. His voice lowered to almost a growl, “Then show me how you take control, Reaper.” 

Spurred on by the challenge in Ink’s words, Reaper surged forward and connected their wide, eager grins once more. 

The artist opened up beautifully, teeth parting to allow the god’s tongue into his warm cavern where a hot, slick battle immediately commenced.

Magic slid against magic wetly, muffled growls and breathy moans filling what little space remained between the two as they kissed. Ink was bolder than what Reaper expected and Reaper sweeter than what Ink assumed, but neither seemed to mind that previous daydreams failed to ring true. The reality—the here and now—was so much better than anything mere imagination could produce. Just as fueled by desire perhaps, but full of excitement and wonder, too.

This was real. This was actually happening.

Full of anticipation, Reaper broke their burning kiss and greedily consumed the starstruck expression the artist wore. Ink was panting, his sockets lidded and flashing symbols at the god as a pretty rainbow blush painted the painter’s face. “Stars, you’re beautiful,” Reaper murmured, tracing the merging array of colors with his thumb, “I bet you’re gorgeous under all those layers.”

“Why don’t you take them off and find out?” Ink suggested with a low, compelling purr, though the brighter blush made it clear he was flattered.

_Well_ , Reaper thought, eyeing all he had to work with, _easier said than done._ The artist wore quite a bit, after all, and the little shit knew it too. Settled against the sleep-rumpled sheets, Ink was grinning up at him mischievously with a devious, knowing glint in his ever-changing eyes. He was waiting for Reaper to ask for help. Too bad. 

Reaper liked challenges.

Hell, he got the worlds’ crankiest skeleton to marry him. Getting Ink naked? Much easier in comparison. 

Meeting the artist’s teasing, smug gaze with a heated look, Reaper smirked and hooked a finger under Ink’s scarf, wasting no time in tugging it away. Hints of the intricate designs hidden beneath the taller skeleton’s shirt were revealed and, curious, Reaper brought his head closer to trace the markings with his tongue. Immediately, Ink gasped and arched, arms sliding around Reaper’s neck in an instinctive response to pull him closer to the sensitive vertebrae. Expression hidden from the artist, Reaper smirked.

He liked that, did he?

“O-oh!” Ink cried out when the god continued lavishing attention to his neck. Teeth scraping against bone, tongue soothing small, pleasurable nips… Tilting his head back against the pillows, Ink moaned, “T-that’s cheating, Reaper!”

“Mm, it’s not my fault you’re apparently sensitive here.” Reaper purred back, sucking color into a spot that made Ink squirm beneath him and shriek. As distracted by the delicious abuse of his neck as he was, Ink failed to notice the hands ridding him of the sweater he wore around his waist, or the way they moved to his suspenders once that was done. “Do you mind things rough?”

“Rough is f-fine!” Ink reassured, flashes of tongue seen behind his parted grin as he produced a symphony of sensual sounds alongside sweet little gasps of pleasure. When teeth immediately sank down following his reassurance, his voice jumped an ocative and his hips raised, desperately seeking friction to compliment the delicious ministrations of that sinful mouth. 

“You’re,” another bite, another echoing moan, “t-taking your sweet time, huh? I’m a l-little surprised you’re going s-so slo— _oooh!”_

“What were you saying?” Reaper teased, his smirk pressed into Ink’s neck as he blindly searched out the heat hidden beneath the shorts his fingers snaked their way into. Knuckles brushing against something that made Ink squeal, he pulled himself away from the artist’s neck and grinned. “I’m going too,” his knuckles began to grind, _“slow?”_

_Is this what Error means when he calls me an asshole?_ Ink wondered, pushing his pelvis up into the small circles Reaper was rubbing into his clit. Stars, it felt so good but Reaper was moving so _slowly_ , most likely in response to Ink teasing him about his pace. He wanted more, damnit! Ink wanted, “M-more!”

Reaper’s grin twisted into something unholy as his pace slowed _more._ Just like Ink said but not what he meant, “I haven’t even finished undressing you yet.”  
Sockets narrowing as his eyelights flashed red, Ink shakily pushed himself up and began tearing at his own clothing until his sash and tops were off and only his gloves remained. “There! N-now it’s just my shorts. You can l-leave the thigh warmers-”

A finger slid into him just as Reaper pounced.

“Shit, those tattoos…” Trailing off into a groan that was outdone by Ink’s loud, surprised moan, Reaper angled his head so he could trace a random black swirl with his tongue; phalange thrusting in and out of Ink’s slick heat quickly. “I knew you had these,” he murmured into the painted bones, teeth skimming a floating rib as he spoke, “but I didn’t think they’d be this sexy.”

“O-oh my—Yes! Yes!” Ink encouraged, gripping the bedding beneath him as he followed the motion of Reaper’s finger with his hips. “A-another one! Please!” he begged, unashamed of asking for more. Why should he be? It felt so _good._ “Stars, g-give me more, Reaper! M-more!”

Shivering as the pleading demand went straight to his pelvis, Reaper complied. The artist was already so wet that a second finger slid into him easily, so he decided to try for a third after a few testing thrusts proved the magic he was working pliant. Just like the first two phalanges, the third finger entered Ink without much difficulty and Reaper was able to start torturing Ink in the best of ways near instantly. 

_This isn’t Geno,_ he reminded himself as he began angling his fingers with every thrust, appreciative of rainbow flush bleeding down Ink’s neck and the way every mark he left was a different color. _He had to learn what_ Ink _liked. What made him scream._

So he experimented.

Searching out cluster of nerves he knew would make the artist feel good, Reaper tried out various methods of pleasuring the taller skeleton with his fingers. Twisting them with every thrust, spreading them wide, grinding into his clit with his palm… Everything he tried earned him loud, arousing noises but he found that Ink was particularly receptive to the way he scraped against those hot, pulsing walls with harder thrust. Smirking, he used this fact to his advantage and began pushing his fingers inside of Ink harder, faster, until the artist’s pitch began climbing and the filthy sound of phalanges driving into wetness grew more obscene.

Then, he found it. That precious spot that made Ink clench around his fingers and scream. 

Instantly, Reaper stopped.

Ink’s eyelights jumped through symbols erratically before settling on a question mark and exclamation point. Teetering on the edge of orgasm, he cried, “No! D-did I say you c-could stop? Keep g-going!”

“Relax,” Reaper said with mirth in his voice, stained fingers sliding out of Ink’s shorts in favor of grabbing them by the band. Their eyes met and the wide, confident smirk he wore faltered a bit. Touching was one thing. Seeing was another. It made what was about to happen even more real, “we’re not done yet?”

Smiling at the way the alluring words came out as more of a question than intended, Ink nodded, “Yeah,” trembling with both anticipation and the need he felt, he raised his hips, “we’re definitely not done. Now take off my pants.”

Startled at the demand, Reaper laughed. Ink really didn’t care about embarrassment when it came to the things he wanted, huh? Nerves lessened by the eager grin being thrown his way, the god nodded and dragged the artist’s shorts down and off. His breath hitched at what he found.

Pretty, pretty ecto. The same rainbow as Ink’s blush.

He loved it.

“I’m going to stick my tongue in that,” he promised with a low, heated growl, “but not today.”

“I hope that means I get something else stuck in me.” Ink shot back without a moment of hesitation, leaning back and spreading his legs invitingly. When Reaper began sliding between them, Ink shot back up and pushed him away with a gasp. “Wait! I want to see you first!”

Ink must have been able to paint with words alone because Reaper’s face was now blue. “Wha-”

Before he could finish, devious hands were pushing the robe he often wore to sleep open, revealing his ivory bones and the magic throbbing with desire between cyan thighs. “Oh,” Ink gasped, eyelights bright and flashing through various shapes of stars, “you have to let me sketch you naked one day. Your cock—” Reaper choked at the chosen words, “—is so lovely! Nice color,” boldly, he curled his fingers around the length, “mm, great size… Overall, it’s really hot. You’re putting this in me, right?”

“Y-yeah,” Reaper moaned, unable to resist thrusting into the hand stroking him almost distractedly, “that’s t-the plan.”

“Good!” Releasing the god’s length, Ink let himself fall back against the sheets and tugged Reaper closer by the waist as he wrapped his legs around the shorter skeleton. Nerves hidden by his grin, he fought the urge to squirm at the feel of Reaper directing his shaft to his sex, small moans falling from his teeth at the slick slide between his lips and the testing prodding at his slit. “J-just...push it in when you’re read—mph!”

Another kiss; sweeter than the passionate one from the very start of everything. Sockets fluttering close, Ink wrapped his arms around Reaper’s neck and pulled him close in order to sink into the sweet yet sensual joining of teeth and tongue. “I’ll push in when _you’re_ ready,” Reaper murmured once they parted, “so just say when.”

Losing the tension he didn’t realize he gained, Ink grinned cheekily, “When.”

Chuckling, Reaper pushed in. 

Joined together in the most intimate of ways, the two moaned as he sank into Ink’s wet heat inch by inch, Ink’s walls tight and Reaper’s cock thick as he split them open around his length; pleasuring them both. Reaper was doing his best to go slow, unsure of how quickly Ink could take it, but the taller skeleton impatiently hooked his ankles around the god’s back and yanked him closer; hilting Reaper instantly. 

“Fuck!” Reaper growled, tensing as he fought the urge to just start fucking into Ink. “A l-little impatient there, huh?”

“O-ohmystarsohmystarsohmystars!” Ink babbled, eyelights fizzing out for a second before shifting too rapidly to keep track of the symbols they made. “Y-you feel so g-good! Oh my—a-ah!” he cried when Reaper shifted, “D-do that a-again! _M-move!”_

Well, Reaper didn’t need to be told twice.

Bracing himself over the prettily flushed, marked up skeleton, Reaper slowly dragged himself free from the burning grip around his cock until he threatened to leave Ink’s heat entirely. Instead of continuing on backwards; however, he grinned at Ink deviously and snapped his hips forward; slamming back in. 

“Yes!” Ink moaned, though the sound was shouted. “Y-yes, yes, please! J-just like that!”

Groaning himself at just how good Ink felt wrapped around his magic, Reaper repeated the action. Then again. And again. And again. Each time he forced himself back into Ink with an obscene squelsh, the artist encouraged him with babbled praises and loud, echoing moans that motivated him to move faster. Harder. Deeper. Anything to chase the pleasure he felt. Anything to make Ink feel good. 

That desire in mind, he attempted to recall the specific angle his fingers managed earlier and tried another thrust.

Ink screamed.

_Bingo,_ Reaper thought with a filthy smile, gripping Ink’s hips and adjusting their postion the slightest bit to ensure he kept fucking into the taller skeleton’s g-spot. “F-feelin’ good?”

“A-ah! Ah! _Ah!”_ The artist cried out with each sharp motion of the god’s hips, answering the question high-pitched moans and scrambling hands that dug into Reaper’s back with pleasure. “H-hah, _ah! A-ah, Reap...R-Reaper!”_

“Let m-me make it even better for you,” he growled, leaning down to suck another mark into Ink’s neck that he followed up with a sharp bite, “fuck, let me make y-you feel as good as you’re m-making me feel, Inky.”

“Yes! P-pleaaah!”

Careful not to shift the angle of his hips, Reaper slid a hand from the soft ecto he was gripping onto in order to hold Ink in place to the swollen, sensative nub of nerves close to the entrance he was fucking. It was a little difficult to push into Ink and mouth at his neck with an arm between their bodies, but he managed it pretty well and took pride at the way Ink’s already wailing moans began to stutter when he rubbed his clit.

Ink had no chance at lasting.

Neck, clit, and cunt stimulated all at once, the smaller skeleton managed to hold his orgasm off for merely a handful of thrust until the overwhelming mix of sensations became too much to defend himself against and he surrendered.

Back arching and chest pushing up into Reaper’s ribcage, Ink held the god close within a punishing hold as the artist screamed with an intense wave of pleasure that crashed through his senses; whiting out his wide, flashing gaze and setting fire to his nerves. At the feel of Ink’s wet, tight heat growing wetter and constricting around him tighter, Reaper growled and forced himself into his lover with hard, fast thrust that extended Ink’s pleasure and brought his own orgasm closer. 

The fingers around Ink’s clit were just as restless as they caught the bundle of nerves between his pointer and thumb and rubbed at it firmly, dragging a whimpering moan from Ink as he was fucked and pleasured straight into overstimulation. Just before everything became too much, Reaper pushed himself in deep with one final thrust and stilled; a wave of thick heat filling Ink and sending sharp, pleasureable shivers down his spine.

“Reaper…!” Ink groaned in pained pleasure, gasping as the god withdrew from his pleasantly abused sex; cum trailing after his length. “O-oh, stars…”

“Sorry,” Reaper said, panting, falling onto the bedding at Ink’s side, “was that too much?”

Tired and tingly but so incredibly sated, Ink shook his head. “N-no. That,” he grinned, “w-was wonderful. We should do it again. R-right now.”

Reaper choked. “W-wha-”

“It felt good, didn’t it?” The artist question with a wide grin, his exhaustion seeming to vanish near instantly as he eagerly rolled himself on top of Reaper. “And it was fun, too. You’re pretty good at topping,” a lustful glint entered his eyes as he loomed over the god, “but I think I can do _better.”_

Sockets wide, Reaper flushed a bright, embarrassed blue.

He _never_ bottomed…

...but he really _did_ like a challenge.

“Good luck trying, Inky.”

——

Geno glanced at the time, wondering just when Ink and Reaper would be stumbling downstairs for some coffee and food. _Or,_ Geno smirked, _stumbling for a different reason…_

Error was making sure the kids were settled in their spots before sitting down and glancing at Geno, “Want me to call the idiots about breakfast-?” 

A door opened upstairs, and Reaper and Ink finally emerged. Geno took one look and grinned innocently. “So… a very good morning you two, I assume~?” 

Their clothes were rumpled and somewhat mismatched. They did their best to clean up, though for some reason Reaper was wearing Ink’s sash, and Ink wore Reaper’s pants. The two shared a rather dirty, flushed look and grinned. 

Error rolled his eyes, hiding his smile. “So, I’m assuming you have no problem touching Ink since he’s still alive?” 

“Oh we touched all right!” Ink turned his star-lights to Error, then blushed in embarrassment. “W-we should have… said something about… about Reaper’s…”

Geno laughed. “Don’t worry about it! It scared the shit out of me when you came home so late and flopped right between us. Reaps didn’t even stir, but it took me nearly 10 minutes to calm down enough to realize you were still alive.” 

Reaper stared at Geno, looking almost betrayed. “You... didn’t wake me…?” 

“Sweetie, you curled around the both of us and murmured something about being _‘nice and cozy!’_ I wasn’t about to ruin your mood.” 

Reaper and Ink glanced at each other before slowly looking to Geno with the biggest grins, “Well… we should probably…. Thank you later, huh, Gen~?” Reaper purred. 

“That’s what **good** husbands are supposed to do, right, Geno~?” Ink winked. 

Error snorted, deadpanning, “Not in front of the kids, you dolts.” 

“E-Error wouldn’t mind accepting some of m-my thanks in my stead, r-right…?” Geno smiled nervously at his brother with a growing blush on his face. 

Error glared, “Don’t look at me. You got yourself into this mess! It’s on you to accept the thanks!” 

Geno practically yelled, “Maybe later!” before sitting down and focusing on Goth and PJ. “Right now, it’s going to be a nice breakfast time with the family!” 

Once again, Ink and Reaper exchanged heated grins before sitting down and digging in.


	5. Spicy Dark, Please!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ink has an errand to run.

Ink sat in his Doodle Sphere art studio, pondering the panting before him. 

At least, that’s what it looked like when Dream popped in for a visit. 

“Hey, Ink!”

At the other guardian’s voice, Ink hurried to cover his art project with a large splattered sheet, before turning and smiling too brightly at him. 

“Heh, uh what’s going on?” Dream peered curiously at the protector. “Is… something wrong?” 

“Just the line work not looking right!” Ink smiled too brightly at his friend. “What’s going on?” 

Dream glanced at the covered canvas again before smiling back, “Well, we were going to visit Red’s, remember? You had some things you wanted to buy, right?” 

Ink blinked and brightened, “The chocolate! I forgot!” 

Laughing, Dream offered a hand, “Wasn’t it written on your scarf?” 

“I… I-It got washed!” 

“Let me guess, you forgot to copy the notes down before washing it?” 

The morning with Reaper flashed in the artist’s eyes, and the scarf- “Y-yeah, something like that!” 

Dream’s eye lights sparkled with mischief. _Sure it was…_ “Either way, we’re still going, right?” 

“Of course! Let me just…” he glanced at the canvas again, eyelights flickering between symbols. 

Amused, Dream continued, “Give you and the painting some privacy…?” 

Surprisingly, a blush spread across the painter’s face. “W-what? No that’s not necessary! I was going to say clean the brushes!” 

“Sure, sure! Whatever you say, Ink!” Dream tapped his staff against a wall, and a portal to Underfell opened up. “Come on, we’ve already made Red and Fell wait long enough!” 

Ink quickly gathered his sash and paintbrush, then stepped through with Dream. On the other side was a hot dog stand in the snow with an angry looking skeleton sitting sound asleep. Actually, he looked wide-awake, what with his eye lights still glowing. But Ink recognized the slower breathing and the soft whistle from the skeleton’s nasal cavity. 

Ink turned a smile to Dream. "Looks like he's ready for some aggressive cuddling!” 

Dream frowned, “C’mon Ink, be serious! You don’t want him to accidentally-” 

Ink walked over, setting Broomy a little too hard onto the counter, “Heya pal! How’s the food here?” 

Red yelped, quickly bringing a jagged bone to Ink’s neck. He woke up enough to stop the tip right at the bone, “WHO THE FUCK-?! _Ink?”_

Dream waved, “Hey Red!” 

Red glanced over, “Dream? What the hell…? Oh the chocolates.” The sharp bone vanished and Red sat back down, rubbing his face. “Yeah, Boss’ finishing up some new ones at home.” 

Ink chuckled nervously, “I don’t think your brother likes me much.” 

“’Course he likes ya. You’n Dream kept me from joining Nightmare when things got low. The very least, he respects ya.” Red stood and motioned for them to follow him. “C’mon then. Don’t wanna keep Boss waiting. 

Easily shrugging off his nervousness after Red's claim, Ink grinned and eagerly followed after the rougher looking skeleton. Dream stopped him with a very pointed cough. "What?"

Expression exasperated yet fond, Dream motioned to the counter of Red's stand, "Your brush, Ink?"

_Oh._ Flushing at Red's poorly disguised laughter, he quickly darted back and grabbed his precious Broomy with a sheepish smile. "Thanks, Dreamboat. I'd be lost without you!"

"Ugh, stop flirtin' ya asshole. Taste testin' all that chocolate was enough to give me cavities without you two makin' it worse."

Turning his head to shoot Red a grin, Ink missed the bright, colorful hue that briefly lit Dream's cheeks. "Aw, don't be jealous, Red."

"W-what?! I ain't jealous!"

"Sure you aren't~"

"Who the fuck do I have ta be jealous of?! Trust me, rainbow ass. Yer one of the last skeletons I'd want to fuck."

"What about Dream?"

Raising a brow, Red glanced at said skeleton before shrugging and walking away, sure that the other two would follow. "Somethin' tells me I ain't his type anymore than he is mine."

Ink bounced on the heels of his feet, walking backwards to stare at Dream. "Oh? And what _is_ your type, Dream?" 

Dream shrugged and glanced away, "Not sure I have the time to find out." 

Red fiddled with the door locks. "Not gonna lie, that's kinda sad." The door swung open, and Red stepped through, "BOSS! I'm back, with guests!" 

Fell glanced at them from the kitchen. "It's about time." He wore the brightest apron Ink thought he’d ever seen. Written in large, pink cursive were the words: "Kiss the Cook". 

He had to cover his mouth from laughing, which earned a sharp elbow into his ribs from Dream. 

Red shrugged his jacket off, grumbling, "The idiots were flirting. It took forever."

For a moment, Fell looked stunned before he managed to hide behind his usual stern expression. "I see. I was unaware that your relationship expanded yet again. Congratulations are in order, I suppose. Red!" he snapped in habit rather than anger, "Next time inform me of something so important before we have guests. I could have prepared a grand dish as a wedding gift!"

"Not sure they're married, Boss."

"Dream would look pretty cute in a wedding dress though," Ink added with a shameless smile, "He has really pretty ecto. White would look nice with it."

"Ecto, eh?" Red chuckled, "Ain't somethin' ya usually see outside of the bedroom."

"Oh, Dream and I got really drunk a few years back and-"

"The chocolate!" Dream shouted in an obvious attempt at changing the conversation, "We wouldn't want them to melt!"

"Yes," Fell said flatly, "you wouldn't want the chocolates to melt. In Snowdin."

Dream blushed, storming over to Fell to put on a spare apron that said "I cook as good as I look". He glanced down at the saying before looking at Red. "Really?" 

Red grinned, "I can give it ta ya if you wanna-" 

"Stop! Ink and I aren't..." he glanced over to Ink helplessly. "Ink, tell them!" 

Ink wiggled his brow bones, "I mean, I'm not opposed!!" 

Dream sputtered. 

"You sure they're not married?”Fell glanced down at his brother. 

Red shrugged, "Maybe they'll propose-?" 

Dream whirled on them, "HOW ARE THE CHOCOLATES COMING ALONG!"

Ink blinked, "Oh we're here for chocolates? Oh yeah! Geno mentioned something about that!"

Dream and Fell continued working on the chocolates while Ink leaned against the wall by the TV, and Red crossed his arms.

"Geno...?" Red murmured, face scrunched up in thought. "He's that depressing bastard, right? The one that lived through all the," a glance at his brother made him hesitate. Talking about the genocides around Fell always made him uncomfortable, "ya know...?"

Smile faltering a bit, Ink nodded, "Yeah, that's him. He and Error are brothers--"

Simultaneously, the fell brothers choked. Fell recovered first. "They're what?! Welp! Stop laughing!"

"I'm sorry, Boss, it's just," hunching over to hold his stomach, Red cackled, "you're a fuckin' dog, Ink! You bagged yourself two brothers?!"

"And a god!" Ink added with a proud grin.

Again, the brothers choked on their surprise.

Thankfully forgotten, at least for a few seconds, Dream shook his head, _You're having way too much fun with this, Ink._

Once Red recovered, he peered curiously at Ink, "So how does that even work?"

Ink tilted his head. "How does what work?" 

"Do they...?" 

"Sans, that's disgusting!" Fell complained just as a magic wrapped dishtowel pelted Red in the face. 

Ink snickered, "Yeah, Red! How crude! Asking about a man's bedroom activities..." He shook his head, "But no they're not involved with each other like that. It'd be weird. Like if you and-"

Fell interrupted, "What about your god husband?" 

Ink instantly brightened, "Oh Death? He's cool!" 

Red spat out his drink, staring at Ink. "WHO?!" 

Attempting to hide his own surprise, Fell turned back to Ink, "Death as in..."

"Actual Death. The grim reaper! Oh, that's what we call him! Reaper!"

"...Is it true what they say?" Red questioned with an expression that instantly set everyone on edge.

Ink blinked, "Is what true?"

"Ya know," Fell's sockets narrowed at the withheld laughter in his brother's voice, "about Death. Is he **small**?"

Everyone frowned in confusion.

It hit Dream first. _The small death..._

Seconds later, three more magic encased towels smacked into Red's face. "SANS, THAT'S FUCKING FILTHY!"

Ink busted up laughing. "I'm not going to grace that with an answer, Red!" He glanced over to Dream, wiping tears from his eyes, "Heh.. hey Dream, how're the chocolates?" 

"They just need to be cooled off a little longer," Dream glanced over at them. "Why must you two always engage in such _crude_ conversations?!" 

Red smirked, "Too dirty for your innocent ears, princess?"

Walking over to peek at the cooling chocolates, Ink laughed, "Dream isn't as innocent as he-"

This time, the dishtowel hit Ink in the face. "No more filth in my fucking kitchen or else I **WILL** kick you out." Fell growled, though everyone noticed the embarrassed flush on his face. 

Relieved that he wasn't the only one made shy by the current conversation, Dream smiled, "This is quite a bit of chocolate for one person. Is Geno planning on baking a cake or something?"

Ink laughed some more, catching the dish towel as it fell. "You've quite a collection, Boss!" He looked over to Dream. "Nah, Error loves the spicy chocolate Red makes, and Reaper likes to steal from Geno's stash. I...” Ink’s gaze shifted to the side, “caught him taking some,” his attention returned to them, “so I figured why not bring more than enough?" 

Red grinned, "'Course that asshole likes our chocolate."

"Heh, hey Boss, how many more of these dish rags do you have?" 

Fell glared, "You better not think of another fucking joke, Ink. I just got my boots polished and I'm not interested in having your mess on them."

Dream sighed, "Honestly you two," he began, referring to Red and Ink, "why don't you give me a hand with these instead of joking around? A few look ready to bag."

Ink laughed under his breath. Red seemed to be the only one aware of what was about to happen and grinned as the painter said, "Of course! I'd love to give you a **hand** Dream."

The words alone weren't all that bad. Mildly suggestive, yeah, but not entirely filthy.

And then Ink's disconnected hand was tossed...

...right at Dream's ass.

Dream yelped, whirling on his oldest friend. "ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?!" 

"Nah, I'm Ink-! Hey wait, what are you doing with my hand?" 

Dream had snatched it off the floor and ran, holding it outside the kitchen window. He started whistling shrilly. "Come on! I know there's **one** of you out here!" He continued whistling. 

"WAIT DREAM, I'LL BE GOOD!! DON'T GIVE MY HAND TO THE DOGS!" Ink wailed, "THAT'S ONE OF MY FAVORITE HANDS!" 

Fell roared in laughter. "Ya shoulda stopped earlier!" 

Ink ignored him. "Dream, please! My wedding rings are on that hand! My husbands will **kill** me if I lose them again!"

_'Again..?'_ Fell mouthed, confused.

Red shook his head at his brother and shrugged. 

The distant sound of a barking dog made Ink panic. "NONONOINEEDTHATFORARTANDTHINGS!" he shouted before lunging at Dream in desperation.

Dream tried futilely to raise his hand above his hand, "YOU'RE MORE WORRIED ABOUT THAT THAN YOUR WEDDING HAND TOUCHING MY ASS?!" 

Ink reached for it, but Dream ducked under his arm, "SAY IT, INK! APOLOGIZE!" 

"FINE, SORRY!" 

Dream tossed Ink's hand up, watching him fumble before catching it and reconnecting it. Ink sighed and grinned at Dream, "Or am I sorry?" 

"You will be when I tell Error." 

Ink pouted, "You've got dirt, too. Probably."

Dream grinned, "You'd forget anything you have on me, Ink."

Expression one of mock outrage, Ink pressed his newly returned hand to his chest and exclaimed, "How **dare** my own friend abuse my terrible memory!"

" **You** abuse your terrible memory, hon. You told Gen you forgot it was your turn to do the dishes just so he wouldn't scold you for not doing them."

"Reaper!" Ink whined, "Don't give out my-! _Reaper?!"_

Grinning widely when everyone spun to face him--and dodging a few reflexive attacks--Reaper lifted a hand and wiggled his fingers in a wave. "Hey."

"Death is in my house." Fell whispered, stepping back slightly. Beside him, Red was caught somewhere between _holy shit_ and _what the fuck_. 

"Why are you here?" Ink questioned curiously, though he cheerfully closed the distance between them for a quick kiss. No one missed the smirk that settled on the artist’s face when he took notice of a mark peeking over the collar of his husband's robes, "Shouldn't you be at home? Or work?" 

"Yeah," Reaper said, not bothering to clarify, "but Gen called me asking to track you down--oh, you forgot your phone, by the way--because he wanted to make sure you remembered to-" 

Ink interrupted him with a gasp, "Red! I forgot that I'm suppose to pay you for this!" 

Red blinked, startled, "Eh? I ain't gonna say no to some g thrown my way, but I didn't know I was bein' paid." 

"Gen insisted." Reaper informed him, staring just a little too intently for Red to be comfortable with his void-like sockets. 

"...Ya, uh, ya got a problem there, ass?" Red asked, nervously.

"...No." Reaper murmured, "No, you're fine." _You're just going to die soon._

He chose not to say that, though. It didn’t seem entirely… appropriate. 

"I'll be going now, Ink."

Ink frowned up at Reaper. "So soon?" 

Reaper nodded, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Don't forget your phone. Or the chocolates. Or to **pay** for the chocolates. Or to-" 

Ink started blushing, "Okay, okay! I get it!" He pushed Reaper, who floated easily away. "Go! I'll see you when I get home?" 

"Yeah," he looked to the others, gaze resting on Red for a little longer. "It was nice meeting you." And he vanished. 

Fell relaxed the moment Death wasn't there. He looked to Ink. "So... Death huh?" 

Ink turned with a cheery grin. "Yep!" 

Dream stared at where Reaper had been just moments before, lost in his own thoughts. 

Chuckling weakly, Red flopped down onto a nearby chair and motioned to where the god had been standing. "He, uh, usually give people that creepy-as-fuck stare?"

Ink frowned, "That's just his eyes, Red. Don't be mean."

"Ain't my fault his eyes are fuckin' weird!"

"Well," Ink huffed, " **Eye** think they're charming!" Noticing that Dream seemed a little dazed, Ink childishly stuck his tongue out at Red before turning to his friend. "Day **dream** ing, Dreamboat?"

Dream blinked and looked to Ink. "Sorry? Uhm... no I'm fine." He blinked again and looked at Fell, "Do you have a bag or something for these?" 

Red grumbled to himself, looking at his brother, who nodded, "Yeah. Yeah we have bags..." 

Ink frowned, looking between everyone. "Why're you all suddenly on **edge**? Heh." 

Back straight and shoulders tense, Fell walked over to a drawer and dug through it before finding a few bags that he was quick to offer to Dream. "Your husband is...unnerving." 

Although Ink wanted to argue, he found that he really couldn't refute that. Still, "He's only creepy when you don't know him. Reaper is sweeter than he looks."

"Yeah, sure." Red murmured, unable to shake the uneasiness that stare brought him, "How'd you even meet the guy?" 

Taking the bags from Fell with a thankful smile, Dream began packaging the chocolates. "Actually, I'd like to know that too. I never really thought to ask."

Ink rubbed his arm, "We met at one of our weddings. I can't really remember... Maybe it was mine?" He smiled dreamily again, "We bonded instantly over..." Ink glanced at Fell, "...clothes...." 

Dream narrowed his eyes at Ink. "...Clothes?" 

"Yep. Clothes," he practically hopped over to the bags and snuck a chocolate into his mouth. "Mmm so good~!" 

"Hey!" Dream smacked his hand when he went for seconds, "Save some for your husbands!" 

Ink pouted again. “Aww, Dream! They won’t know if I eat another one!” 

“Yes, they will! Because I’ll tell them!” 

“My own friend? Betraying me…?” Ink raised a hand to his forehead and sighed dramatically. “Oh how _will_ I go on?!” 

Dream’s expression softened, “You’re such a dork. Fine, _only one more_ , but we’re taking them _straight_ to your house.” 

Ink’s eyelights changed to stars as he snatched another chocolate. He winked at Dream, snickering slightly, “Straight as an **arrow**?” He plopped the chocolate in his mouth, softly groaning at the taste, “So good…” 

Dream shook his head and took off his apron. He glanced around. “Wait, where are your cats?” 

Fell removed his apron as well, nodding upstairs. “Had to lock them upstairs. Doomfanger has an unnaturally sweet tooth and doesn’t understand when we yell at him to not eat the chocolates. And the others just like to throw their fur around. Unsanitary.” 

“You were the one that wanted our _Army of Darkness_ , Boss!” 

“And so what if I did, runt?! They are cruel and vicious beasts! Claws, fangs, fucking _fur_ that gets everywhere! And that _noise_ when they rub up against your legs?! And the way they _insist_ on being in your lap or on your shoulders at the most _inconvenient_ of times?! Absolutely cold, calculating…” 

“Thank you for having us,” Dream muffled his growing laughter by nudging Ink, who blinked placidly then quickly pulled out a red pouch that jingled with g. Fell immediately stopped his rant while his brother stared wide-eyed at it. 

“That sounds like-” 

“Geno _really_ wanted to thank you but he started getting nervous and told me to just give you the whole thing so,” Ink shrugged, then smiled, “Thank you from all of us!” 

They wouldn’t have usually felt like this, but the brothers… it didn’t seem right to take it. The four of them were friends, after all. Though the brothers knew that neither guardian was going to take it back. They would insist and insist, until they left and “forgot” to take the pouch with them. After a few more moments, Fell just accepted the pouch and let his expression soften. “Thank you, too.” 

The artist’s star-lit eyes didn’t fade, “We’ll probably be back next week!” He eagerly snatched up the several bags and hauled them off the counter from where Dream had set them. 

Red grinned, “Heh, I’m sure you will.” 

The two guardians left, peering at the darkening sky around them. “Huh, looks like we stayed out too late…” Dream glanced at Ink. “We could still visit Blue, but I think Error will start causing troubles if you don’t get back home to him.” 

Ink glanced back at the house. “My paintbrush…?” 

“On your back still.” 

“Phone?” 

“Front right pocket.” 

“The money?” 

“Fell has it.” 

“My sash?” 

“You never took that off!” Dream softened his voice, “Are you ready?” 

There was a pause and Ink blinked. “Ready for what?” 

“To go home! Ink, I don’t think you’re ever-” 

Ink suddenly smiled. “Home! Let’s go home! My husbands probably miss me! Aww!” he cooed. “My kids probably do too!” 

Despite his worries, Dream smiled. He opened the portal to Ink’s new home, watching as Ink ran straight to the door. Geno opened it, smiling and helping unload the bags from Ink’s arms. Error emerged, PJ hanging from one arm and Goth wrapped around one of his legs. Ink squealed, hugging Error tightly before turning towards Geno. 

Though it was just paint combinations, it really did look and _seem_ like Ink was enjoying himself. He really did _look_ like he was in love with his husbands and he definitely _seemed_ to adore the kids. Dream’s smile faded. His… Geno and Reaper _knew…_ right? About the paints and how Ink’s emotions worked through them? _Not like that’s my business..._ Dream scolded himself. 

Ink ran back to Dream and hugged him tight. “Thanks for going with me to Underfell!” his voice dropped to a whisper, “And not telling on me about the chocolates.” 

_Or the **hand** , Ink?_ Dream hugged him back, smiling. “Sure thing, Inky! Make sure you actually keep your phone on you? I’m going to check on some other worlds, but it’d be nice if I could actually reach you if I need it, okay?” 

Ink grinned and nodded before walking back to his waiting family. Dream hoped he didn’t have to call Ink away from them…


	6. Ugh Cavities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which... feels?

Geno’s eye was wide and excited as he beheld the bags and bags of chocolate Ink brought home. “Oh no… Oh, oh dear…” 

“What is it? Is it not enough?” 

“I… oh there’s _plenty_ of chocolate, but I don’t think I gave you enough g for them!” Geno started rifling through the bags, organizing them on the counter. 

Error stepped forward, his own eyes wide with disbelief. “Those assholes really made _this much_ for us…? Just cuz you asked?” 

Ink grinned, weaseling over to his first husband. “Of course! I’m the Protector of the AUs!” 

Geno flicked his gaze up and between the two. He eyed the children still clinging to Error. “Hey Ink, mind grabbing PJ?” Geno walked over and unlatched Goth from Error’s leg, letting the child cling to his own arm. 

Ink watched Goth clutch Geno’s scarf before looking at PJ, who was sound asleep with arms wrapped tightly around Error’s arm. “Uh, yeah sure…?” He carefully unlatched the child and readjusted his grip before PJ woke up. Error let out a soft sigh, flashing a look to Geno. Ink frowned, “Error, was it your…?” 

“Y-yeah…” he took a step away from everyone, “Hey, don’t worry about me, you idiot. I’m fine.” 

The artist smiled hesitantly at the destroyer before turning a quizzical gaze to his brother. _How did he…?_

Geno now had the chocolates organized by flavors. He was starting to re-bag them all the while holding Goth, who was starting to whine about not being wrapped around Error’s leg. “No, Gothy. When Reaps gets home, you can cling to _him_.” 

Error muttered, “Bro, I **told** you we should just have my strings everywhere so they can crawl around like the little crawly abominations they are…” 

The bloodied skeleton gave the destroyer a look that instantly made him take another step back and raise his hands. “Or not. Whatever…” 

Ink looked around, readjusting his grip on PJ. “Ooo it would be so nice to have some swings or hammocks here…” Without warning, Ink’s expression shifted. Instantly, Error and Geno scowled at him, sensing the filth going through their husband’s head. 

“Don’t,” Error warned. 

“Just a thought~!” Ink smiled innocently. "It'd be a fun surprise for when Reaper gets home." 

Geno instantly blushed, suddenly **very** focused on putting the chocolates away. Ink winked at Error, who couldn’t stop his own blush from growing on his face. “I’m going upstairs to take a shower,” he gave Ink a pointed stare, “alone. Try not to eat all the chocolate, will you Inkstain?!” 

Laughing, Ink replied, “You sure I have the poor memory, darling?” 

Error threw his hands up in the air, shouting, “Yes I’m sure!” and stormed upstairs. Ink’s laughter faded into a smirk at the door slamming shut. 

It was quiet between the two skeletons and their children. Ink watched as Geno took out several of the larger chocolate bars, tasted them, then set them aside. He glanced at a book that was open, then back to the chocolates. “Ink, can you grab some milk and eggs from the fridge please?” 

Startled out of the silence, Ink complied. He peeked into the fridge, seeing how… organized…? “Geno?” 

“Hmm?” 

“You…” Ink tilted his head. “Everything’s so…!” 

Geno looked up. “Oh, yeah! It’s kinda free-for-all, but I put everyone’s names on the foods I’m pretty sure they like.” He cringed at the fruit Ink was now holding. “I… well I wasn’t entirely sure… but you drink smoothies right…? I always see them with fruits and-” 

Ink turned a smile to him. “That’s so thoughtful! Thanks, Gen~!” 

The other turned his attention back to the book, a redness flooding across his face. “Y-yeah no problem…” he hid his smile in his scarf. 

Ink put the fruit back, “Milk and eggs, you said?” He set the ingredients down by Geno’s book, nudging the fridge closed with his hip. He leaned over the slightly smaller skeleton and peered at the book. “What are we making?” 

“Chocolate cake, and maybe some cupcakes if I have enough left over,” Geno turned, accidentally smacking skulls with him. “OW!” 

Ink yelped too, clutching his cheek. “Wow, talk about _putting our heads together_ …” 

Despite himself, Geno laughed. Ink’s eye lights flashed briefly to a heart and an exclamation point, but changed back when Geno looked up. “Don’t think anything of my laugh. That was just a _knee-jerk_ reaction…!” 

A pause, and Ink was howling with laughter. “If that’s the case, I guess I should go back to the _jaw_ -ing board!” 

Geno snorted, quickly covering his face. Ink doubled over, barely keeping PJ in his arms at his wheezing cackle. “What- what was that..?!” 

“Nothing!!” Geno instantly denied. “ _Tooth_ be told, I have no idea what that was.” 

“That was _fibula_ -ous, Geno!” Ink wheezed, tears now leaking from his eyes. 

The instant PJ started crying, Ink was checking on him, cooing and offering some fruit from the fridge. Geno had to admit he was surprised the little guy didn’t wake up earlier… Ink looked over to Goth, “Gen, mind if I take them to the other room?” 

Geno smiled, carefully handing a fussy Goth to Ink. Ink made faces and cooed at both of them as he walked towards the living room. Both Goth and PJ started giggling. 

But now Geno was lost in his thoughts. He went through the motions of making the batter and setting everything up, but his mind was on… well, love. There were so many types of love between people, especially in this house! Geno thought about his brotherly love for Error and for Reaper’s Papyrus. His parental love for Goth and PJ. The intimate love for Reaper. But… he glanced at the doorway to the living room. What did he feel for Ink…? 

Confused. 

Ink was so _confusing!_ He forgets a **lot** , his dirty mind is equal to Reaper’s, and he’s somewhat unpredictable. He’s _humerus_ and endearing and a Guardian of the Multiverse! He drinks paints (which Geno was only slightly certain was unhealthy, but he was married to a skeleton with a diet consisting of at least 80% coffee and 20% chocolate), but Ink brought stability back to Error’s life. And yet… _he didn’t do anything to stop the genocides…_

…

…

Geno shook his head. He **knew** that wasn’t fair. Error told him a long time ago why Ink didn’t do anything. Something about Creators and their worlds. Besides there being more worlds than they could keep track of. Geno couldn’t wrap his head around it at the time and had since forgot, but he knew it wasn’t fair to blame Ink. Or Dream. Geno didn’t know of there were other guardians. If there were more worlds, there were probably more guardians, but Geno didn’t- 

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! 

Startled out of his thoughts, Geno looked around for the noise. The cake! He turned the timer off and took the cake out- _Ohh that smells so good…!_

…

_Maybe he’ll just…_

Ink reappeared in the doorway, grinning brightly. “Geno! The boys are- Uh… what are you doing?” 

Geno turned, a bite of freshly baked cake almost in his opened mouth. Keeping eye contact with the artist, Geno engulfed the bite, chewed, swallowed, and set the fork into the sink. 

Ink blinked slowly, before his eye lights turned to exclamation points. He laughed. “Let me guess, I didn’t see that?” 

“Exactly. You didn’t see anything because there was nothing to see!” 

Ink tasted some of his yellow paint, grinning at him. Geno squinted at the paint, remembering what he was thinking earlier. “You know…” Geno began before Ink could speak, “I see you with your sash and those vials, but…” 

“My paints? Oh!” Ink laughed. “They’re supposed to help me feel emotions, since I don’t have a SOUL!” 

Geno froze. “Wait…” 

Ink scratched the back of his head, a bright smile still on his face. “Yeah, I don’t exactly remember how that happened. Honestly, I don’t really remember much from all that, but it’s okay! I remember meeting Dream, then Error,” Ink waved his hand, putting the vial back on his sash. “Well, everything before them doesn’t matter, does it?” 

Intrigue, confusion, slight terror, understanding. Others of course were present, swarming Geno’s own SOUL and mind. But it was the curiosity that won. Geno stepped closer to look at the colors. “How does it work?” 

“Well,” Ink pulled down the neck of his scarf slightly. On the inside was a small fabric patch with a list of colors, the emotions they cause, then some useful color combinations. “Error helped me sew my cheat sheet into the scarf so I wouldn’t forget.” He smiled warmly at Geno. “He gave me some fabric pens for if I needed to write a new combo, too! But I might’ve misplaced them…” 

Geno smiled back at Ink, curiosity still plain in his expression. “That’s cool. So you choose how to feel?” 

Ink’s smile faded slightly. “Choose how I feel? I… I guess I do that. I mean, it’s either that or be a blank slate,” he laughed. “It’s easier to… choose…? When I’m choosing to match the mood of the situation 

But one thing still didn’t fully make sense to Geno. More like a bunch of smaller things wrapped in one messy burrito… “How did you and Error decide to start dating…?” 

“Oh!” Ink scratched at the base of his skull again, thinking. “Oh… well, Dream and I had been talking about friends and relationships, and said something about Error, and I was thinking that Error must be as lonely as me, you know? He’s got his haphephobia, I’ve got my paints. We’re messed up in different ways, but maybe we could help each other?” 

“How do _you_ know you love him?” 

Ink reached for the pink paint and paused. Did… did he love Error…? _Of course he did…! He… they’re married right? They have a kid together. That must mean they love each other, right? **…right…?**_ Ink’s expression must’ve reflected his thoughts, because Geno was quick to raise his hands, “Ink? I’m sorry Ink! I didn’t mean to imply anything bad, I was just-” 

“Curious.” Ink gripped the blue vial in his hand instead. “It’s okay, it’s just…” he shrugged, pretending to forget it. “It doesn’t matter, does it? We’re here now.” 

Geno nodded, deciding to let the subject drop too. He turned back to his desserts, starting to clean up after himself and prepare the frosting. 

But… Ink wasn’t quite done yet. “How do _you_ know?” 

“Know what?” Geno asked. 

“How do you know you love Reaper and Error?” Ink didn’t mention himself. He… well he didn’t really want to know the other’s opinions on him just yet. 

Geno was facing away from Ink, his hands scrubbing dishes in some soapy sink water. “Do you mean like brotherly love verses loverly love?” 

“Brotherly love…?” 

“Uh… yeah? I love the three of you, just not necessarily in the same way. I love you and Reaper different from how I love Error.” 

Ink stared at Geno’s back. _There’s more than one kind of love…?_

Geno continued, “For me, I feel a warmth in my SOUL when I think of you all. I want to protect you because you’re my family, and I want to see you smile and laugh, because it makes me feel better. I want to be selfish and keep you all to myself, but I also want to brag about you and show you off to the world. _This is my husband! And my other husband! And my husbruh! And my kid and my other kid!”_ Ink laughed a little, bringing a smile to Geno’s face. He rinsed the dishes and set them in the drying rack before turning back towards Ink. “It’s… well, I’m not entirely sure how to describe the nuances between the loves… they’re a little new for me, too. Error, Fresh and I kinda just adopted each other as brothers, and we’ve been such ever since.” 

Ink’s sockets went wide with spirals, “You can _adopt_ brothers?!” 

“U-uh, kind of? I’m, we, well it’s kinda unofficial? We became such good friends that we were practically siblings, so the three of us just went with it, and we’ve been calling each other brothers since.” 

“But how does Error and Reaper differ in your mind? I don’t get that.” 

Geno paused, thinking about it. Slowly, he frowned. “I’m… not sure how to describe it…? Error and I are close. We’re like… best friends, except we don’t mind cuddling and holding each other for comfort. I guess others could see that as intimacy, but we’re not attracted to each other, romantically or sexually. We’re just…” 

“Close. Like siblings.” 

“Yeah… and it’s the same with Fresh and us.” Geno smiled at Ink. “And with Reaper? It’s more…” a blush started to spread across his face. “U-uhh…? W-well, I think _flustered_ might be a good term…? You and Reaper-” 

“I think I understand it from your perspective…” Ink fiddled with his sash. There was a distant look in his eyes. 

Geno took instant notice. “Hey, hang on, your paints don’t make your feelings any less real-” 

“Yes it does. The paints aren’t real, Geno. Nothing about me is,” the smile Geno received was one still tainted with joy. 

“I… well hang on, that’s not true. You- the paints- i-it doesn’t mean you don’t feel love for us!” He walked over and placed his hands over the artist’s. “Ink, it’s pretty cool that you’ve got that option-” 

Ink winced, “That just means I could also choose to hate you or be indifferent.” 

“But you _don’t_ ,” Geno smiled softly at Ink. “Hon, it doesn’t diminish our feelings for you, and I hope you don’t think your paints bother us.” He squeezed the artist’s hands, gentleness in his voice, “It’s uniquely you, and there’s nothing wrong with that.” 

Slowly, Ink looked up to Geno. “… I kind of want to sip some pink paint right now.”   
Geno blushed, looked to their clasped hands, then blushed brighter. “O-oh!” He let go quickly. 

Ink replaced the blue with the pink, took a sip, then smiled at Geno. “Thank you. I… I think I’m understanding more of all this.” He leaned over and kissed Geno, too quick for the other to react, then he walked in the other room. 

Staring after him, Geno touched his mouth. He could taste the pink… well, it tasted like paint. 

“Ugh, I think I just got some cavities watching that.” 

Geno whirled behind him, where Error stepped from around the other entrance. “Error! How much did you hear?!” 

Error shrugged, “Basically everything?” He narrowed his eye lights at his brother. “I saw you sneak a bite,” his expression softened, “but thank you. Ink needed to hear that from someone else.” 

“Well, it’s true! There’s nothing wrong with him!” 

“You’ve got some pink on your-” Error busted up laughing as Geno turned bright red and tried scrubbing his mouth. 

Geno glared when he discovered the joke.

“You’re an ass.” 

“Love ya too, bro.”


	7. The Blunder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which an accident unintentionally answers a question!

Error needed space. 

 

_Ink and the kids came rushing into the kitchen when Geno called about dessert. Though still seeming to be deep in thoughts about the conversation earlier, Ink kissed Error hello and gratefully accepted a slice from Geno. His brother passed the kids each a slice of cake with ice cream and drizzle. Within seconds, as if he could sense Geno’s baking, Reaper was home and accepting a plate and a kiss. Error stared. Was the god giddy….? What a strange sight to see when one has come home after taking people’s souls… Geno handed a slice to Error with a smile. Error’s piece was substantially bigger than everyone else’s, making the destroyer softer on the inside. Everyone sat in the living room to watch Undernovela and chat. And Error?_

_It was too much._

_He didn’t understand his sudden panic. The next thing he was aware of, he had devoured his slice in the kitchen and was stepping through a portal._

 

The portal closed behind him and somehow, the destroyer was unsurprised to find himself in Outertale. 

_Space._ Error scoffed. _Needed some space. Good one. Real original._ He shook off his sarcastic thoughts. 

He was here now, wasn’t he? May as well enjoy it. 

He sat down and stared up at the stars, trying to will his mind to blankness. 

_Ink loves this too…_ Error blinked. _No that’s not right… Ink loves all the AUs. Well, guess he can’t, what with his paints… wonder how he feels about that conversation with Geno… At least, he protects the AUs… I should text him. Or not; the damn stain would probably forget to respond._ He sighed. This wasn’t helpin- 

_Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch._

Error leapt to his feet, strings already between his fingers. “Whoever’s out there, you’d better make yourself known before I shatter your soul.” 

A pause, then a shape morphed into view. Mostly. The shape itself was dark and there appeared to be… _things_ waving around it. 

“Nightmare, what’re you doing here?” Error dropped his hands, but kept the strings ready, just in case. 

The figure continued to approach, not answering the destroyer. Annoyed, Error repeated the question. Again, no answer. Error squinted. _Who is that…?! Grr, screw this._ He flung his strings out, swiftly wrapping the figure in his strings. 

“Woah, hey! Error, did you forget your glasses at home?!” 

He blinked. Squinted harder. Blinked again. _“Reaper?!_ Is that you?” The destroyer walked cautiously closer and saw his Deathly partner, who smiled and wiggled his fingers in greeting. What Error had mistaken for dark wavy things were just part of Reaper’s cloak being extra. The strings dropped. “What the hell are you doing following me around?!” 

“Huh, it’s not hard. I mentioned that you left. Ink suggested looking in Outertale first.” 

_Why is it that he remembers stupid shit like **this…?**_ “… where is Ink?” 

“With the kids. Goth wanted to see Ink draw.” Reaper reached down and picked up some of Error’s strings. “Huh, so you use these? Interesting. I’ve seen you use these in your clothes and to make that stuffed snake thing for Goth.” 

“Yeah, kinda nice to use what you have instead of buying it.” 

Reaper looked up to him. “How-?” 

“My eyes.” A shrug. “I have no idea. I’m just as much an abomination as the rest of you idiots. All I know is that it comes from my eyes and they’re very sturdy and useful.” 

“You could make a hammock. Or a string bikini.” 

“Yeah I probably- w-wait... why did you change the subject like that?!” 

The god of death smiled. “So, you destroy worlds? I’m surprised we haven’t come in contact at work! I imagine worldly death isn’t exactly benign.” 

Error stared at the god with narrowed eye lights. “…I only finish off the dead or uninhabited worlds. It was an agreement between Ink and I. And Ink still gets to do his protector stuff.” 

“Why not just join him?” Reaper floated horizontally towards Geno. Lazily, he rested his head on his crossed arms with a grin. “Surely a protector husband team is a good one?” 

“I-I mean probably,” Error stepped away, narrowing his eyes at how close Reaper was getting. The bastard had been avoiding him for weeks and suddenly feels comfortable enough to almost touch? “Are you trying to kill me right now?” 

Reaper’s floating paused in his advance. “No, not really.” He flipped over to float on his back and stare at the stars. “This really is a nice place.” 

Error glanced around before watching the god suspiciously. “Yeah… it is…” 

There was a somewhat comfortable silence between them. Reaper was still feeling one of Error’s detached strings between his fingers as he watched the sky. Error was watching him, filled to the brim with suspicion. He glanced at the string, trying to ignore the phantom sensations he was receiving from it. 

Having had enough, Error snapped, “Why did you follow me?” 

Reaper tilted his head back to stare at the destroyer. “Seemed like you needed someone to talk to.” 

“No, I wanted to be left alone.” 

“Oh.” 

“…”

“So, do you want me to leave?” 

“Since you’re here, why leave?” Error grumbled. 

Reaper grinned, “Cool.” 

_“RUUURUUU~ I’m calling you, my love~!”_

Blushing brightly, Error ripped into his pockets and answered his phone. “WHAT?!” 

“Error!” Ink sounded almost panicked, “I just got a call from Blue in Underswap. What are you doing?!” 

“…I’M IN OUTERTALE. WITH REAPER. WHY IN THE FUCK WOULD I BE TORMENTING YOUR STUPID BLUEBERRY PARTNER?!” 

“Oh! I didn’t think you’d _actually_ be in Outertale!” Ink chuckled. “So you’re not part of the nightmares that’re bothering Blue?” 

“Ink…” Error rubbed his temple. “Inky…” 

“Yes, Ruru~?” 

“Why…? The _fuck…?_ Are you calling me…? INSTEAD OF GOING TO UNDERSWAP, YOURSELF?!” 

“I just wanted to call you! And maybe ask if you’d swing by Underswap?” 

Reaper watched the exchange with mixed amusement and concern. Error turned away from him, hissing to Ink, “Just get there, and we’ll see if I show up.” 

“Okay~! See you there, Ruru!” and the stain hung up. 

Error glared at his phone, muttering, “I swear to the stars… I have no idea how people put so much faith in that fucking airhead…” 

“But he’s _your_ airhead! And mine!” Reaper grinned. “Mind if I tag along?” 

Error threw his hands into the air, growling, “SURE. WHY NOT.” He dragged his claws down, ripping open a portal to Underswap before stepping through. Reaper floated eagerly behind him, cloaking himself as he passed.

——

Sure enough, Killer was there with a knife in some snowflake monster’s back. Reaper cringed at seeing the body dust and the soul he knew he needed to reap. Upon hearing boots touching the snow, Killer turned. “Error,” he sneered. “Been too long buddy. You’ve gotten soft.”

“Is that what you think?” 

“It’s what I _know._ Boss and Horror haven’t seen ya in a while. Cross is even pouting about your absence. Surely you’re here to help us and not _them?”_

“Nightmare and I have an agreement about my alignment. One that does not involve you.” Error pulled strings from his eyes. “Does he know you’re here? Because that would be violating our agreement.” 

“Like you said, your agreement is between you’n Boss. Not me.” Killer turned towards Error. “I was just tryin’ to get your attention. Tell me, how’d you get here so fast?” 

“Portal.” 

Reaper watched the two with interest. He knew no one would be able to see him unless he wanted them to. Not even Error. But they could still touch him. He decided to stay back a bit more. Though he didn’t wish harm on the destroyer, he was pretty curious to see him fight. 

Oh, word of the Protector and the Destroyer had spread even to Reaper’s home place. They held several interests, especially with the younger gods, for potentially being gods themselves. It was rumored that neither could die. That, one time, the protector was torn apart, but was able to pull himself back together. That the destroyer used his strings like a spider with their web. That the protector had a drug problem, and that the destroyer lies about his touch issues. 

Rumors. What horrible nasty things. Who knew which ones were right or wrong? 

“Killer, Error!” Reaper turned to hearing Ink’s voice. Next to him were Dream and Blue, the Sans of Underswap. The god of death became even more intrigued. _The legendary Star Sans Trio was here? I suppose that makes sense, since one of them_ lives _here…_

Error and Killer glanced to the newcomers. The former merely narrowed his eye lights while the latter scowled something fierce. “I understand when I’ve been outmatched. This time.” Killer jerked his head to the side. “CROSS! WE’RE LEAVING.”

“No you’re not!” Dream loosed an arrow at Killer. 

He easily slashed it in half. “Not today, little guardian.” 

Another skeleton came running, carrying several bags of… tacos? Seriously? 

“H-hey!” 

The skeleton with the tacos had a red scar under his left eye. This must be Cross? Reaper wondered. Killer’s scowl just grew. “Why did you grab so many?!” 

“You really think I’m gonna share all this with you and Horror?!” Cross snapped. “You gluttons wouldn’t let me have a bite if I wanted one!” 

Ink spoke up, “Looks like you already ate a bag before joining us!” 

Cross, a slight purple blush to his bones, shoved half the bags into Killer’s annoyed hands and drew his knife. He said nothing but slashed the knife through the air before them. A portal covered with X-shaped glitches appeared, leading to a dark place. Killer swiftly stepped through as if it were to paradise. The Star Guardians instantly moved, shouting, but Cross ducked into the portal just as it vanished. 

Error glanced at the trio, hands limp by his sides. “So… not sure what that was.” 

Ink whirled to him. “Ruru~! You came!” He ran over, flinging his arms wide- 

_Oh no-_

Error yelled, “INK WAIT-!”. 

_No no no no-!_

Without enough time to prepare, Error caught Ink. 

Stumbling. 

_Right into Death._

Reaper immediately re-materialized to catch the both of them. “Are you two-?! Dammit, Error?!” 

Ink jerked his face up to Reaper’s, eye lights going out in panic. He took Error’s face frantically. “ERROR? RURU?? C’MON WAKE-” 

Reaper set Error down, SOUL thrumming against his chest. _Oh Geno’s gonna kill me, I killed his brother he’s gonna **kill me…!**_

“Wait…” 

Reaper stared at Ink. “Wait what?! Why isn’t he dusting…?!” 

Dream and Blue peered over Ink’s shoulder at Error, tipping their heads at the destroyer. “Oh I’ve never seen him so calm this close before!” Blue chirped. 

“Yeah, don’t get used to it,” Dream smiled at Blue. “He’s usually cursing up a storm, and it gets exhausting.” 

“That’s my HUSBAND you’re talking about!” Ink cried. “Oh… he crashed? He’s-” he gasped, eye lights flashing back in his sockets. “REAPS, HE’S STILL ALIVE!” 

“…What do you mean he crashed? HE’S ALIVE?!” 

“YEAH! Look! He’s not dust! And his soul is still where it’s supposed to be! He must’ve just crashed!” Ink shivered then took several steps away and puked up ink. 

Dream cringed, “Uh… so Error must’ve panicked too hard that he kinda just…” Dream checked in Error’s sockets again. “I dunno, blacks out? From what Ink told me, just give him a bit and don’t touch him and he’ll be fine.” 

Reaper slowly sat down on the ground by them, then covered his face with his hands. “Why is Ink puking.” 

“You didn’t know?” Blue laughed, “Sometimes if there’s too much going on, he’ll vomit! Like Error’s crashing!” 

Ink stumbled over, wiping his mouth. “It’s not _that_ bad!” 

“You puked on the nightmares one time, because Horror insulted your artwork. You got too worked up and puked instead of attacking him.” 

“D-Dream!” 

The guardian of positivity just smiled and shrugged. 

Reaper looked up to them again between fingers. “So… any other fun quirks I should know about before you chase me _to my death?”_

Laughing, Ink said, “Can the God of Death die?” 

Dream and Blue froze, slowly looking to Reaper, who considered it and shrugged. “Probably not.” He smiled at the other Star Sanses. “Greetings, I’m Death the Elder. Also known as Reaper.”

“But… you didn’t kill Error…? Or Ink…??” Blue narrowed his eye lights in confusion.

“Why are you here?” Dream tried not to frown.

“Don’t be rude, Dream!” _Oh it didn’t work._ “We’re married! He went to check on Error and followed him here!” Looking to Reaper, Ink tilted his head, “Right?” 

Blue choked. “YOU MARRIED THE GOD OF DEATH?!” Dream pretended to act surprised. His eyes were still on Reaper.

Reaper glanced down at his ring hand where his single ring from Geno sat, then back to Ink. _Eh, that’s a conversation we can have later…_ he smiled jovially. “Yeah, the three of us are married with another husband at home. ”

“What-” Blue was still processing the new information. “INK YOU HAVE THREE HUSBANDS AND DIDN’T INVITE US TO THE WEDDING?!” he cried.

“Wedding-?”

“Why is it so **fucking loud** …”

“Ruru!” Ink immediately turned his attention back to Error. “Sweetie, are you okay?”

Everyone turned to the destroyer, who slowly sat up. He rubbed his forehead and glared at the people around him. “…what the hell….”

“Error?”

The destroyer froze and glanced behind himself where Reaper still sat patiently. “What… what did… oh… oh my stars you…”

“You’re not dead, dear,” Reaper smiled. “Want a hug?”

“Are you-?!”

“Reaps caught us, Ru! And you didn’t die!” Ink almost grabbed his hands, but hesitated. “Isn’t that great?”

There was a white noise buzzing in the destroyer’s mind. He could’ve… _he almost…!_ But… how…? How is he…?! “How am I not dead? Can you control your Death Touch?”

Blue and Dream exchanged horrified glances while Reaper rubbed his chin in consideration. “As far as I understand, it’s not something I can control… maybe it’s got something to do with those who have AUs and those who don’t…?”

Doubtful, Error grumbled, “That doesn’t explain Geno.”

“It could!” Ink perked up, “Doesn’t his world have a Sans? Geno’s separate from it now so even though he’s originally from it, he’s not part of it anymore! He doesn’t technically have an AU anymore, right?”

Error cringed, holding his head in one hand. “Sure… we’ll go with that…”

“If you’d like, I could touch Blue and see if he dies.” 

Blue squeaked and hid behind Dream. 

“I… don’t think that’s… entirely necessary. Thank you Death,” Dream chuckled weakly. His eye lights flashed in warning. 

Error grumbled, but accepted Ink’s still outstretched hands and stood. “Uh… cool to see you two again…” 

Dream smiled. “Glad you’re not opposing us anymore” 

Error looked away. “I’m still not on your side.” 

“Aww, _sure_ you’re not, Error!” Ink winked at him. 

He sputtered, hiding the color on his face. “Shut up you dumbass! I’m not! I’m on my _own_ side!” 

“Uh huh, yes you are!” Ink grin simply widened. 

Reaper opened a portal and waited for for the bickering couple to go through. He inclined his head to the other guardians, “It was nice to meet you both,” he smiled and vanished through. 

Blue and Dream exchanged glances. “What just-?” 

“I don’t-?” 

“Does anyone-?” 

Dream shook his head. “I have no idea… I don’t even know if Nightmare knows about this…” He smiled at his companion. “Let’s just leave them to it, okay? If Ink needs us, then he’ll know where to find us. Besides, it’s not our job to talk or gossip about Ink’s love life.” 

Blue immediately brightened, “As long as they’re happy, that’s all we need, right?” He suddenly gasped. “Paps!” 

The two of them ran over to where Blue’s brother was… smoking. “Stretch!” Dream called. “Are you okay?” 

Stretch glanced over, scowling. “Yeah. Taco shop was hit, and the entire prepared supply was taken. Not much else.” 

“We had a casualty on our end, but I think they were just after the tacos…” Blue ran up and hugged Stretch tightly. “So you’re okay, brother?!” 

Stretch moved his cigarette out of the way and hugged him back. “Yeah. Annoyed but physically fine.” 

Dream smiled at them before glancing back to where Ink and his husbands left through. Did Ink have enough time to do everything he needed…? _What if…?_ Dream shook his head. _Nah. They’ll all be fine. He smiled. I’m glad he finally has more people who love him in his life…_ Color appeared on Dream’s cheeks. 

“Dream, what kinda dirt is going through your mind?” Stretch teased. 

“N…nothing.” Dream turned to the brothers, smiling. “I think I should head back. Let me know if anything happens, okay, Blue?” 

“Of course!” Blue grinned. “Safe travels, Dream!” 

Dream waved, stepping through a portal. He was still thinking about Reaper and the positive aura surrounding him. _Reaper really was falling in love with Ink… wasn’t he?_ Dream sat down, for once, unsure of his own emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love posting these chapters before work and reading these comments. You all brighten my day with your reactions XD 
> 
> Also, a big thank you to @Lerex for finding an inconsistency! It is now fixed, and hopefully for the better! Thank you!!- 🎃


	8. Spa(r) Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things get heated. Lol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of cursing, suggestive language, surprisingly not NSFW. Enjoy!

Shit sucks sometimes. 

When that happens, you need a break. 

The whole bullshit that happened between himself, Ink and Reaper left Error feeling… well, he needed to blow off some steam. Stretch his strings. Let his aggression out. 

Ink simply wanted to have an at-home spa day, and Error _definitely_ didn’t want that. 

He needed somewhere to go. Outertale was out since it would be an even more obvious escape after his recent visit but he was too infamous for anywhere else. He could possibly get away with one of the worlds he never really bothered with but he didn't want to risk any curious assholes coming up to him for a chat. Ink wanted him to play nice with people. He was bad at that even on his good days. _There was no chance of him behaving on a bad one._

Sighing, he crawled down from his living room nest and began stalking towards the door. The backyard would have to do. "I'm going outside! No one follow me unless you want your ass handed to you!" 

Ink looked up, pouting. His skull was already covered in some sort of pungent relaxing facial mask, and he was applying the same mask to Geno's face, wary of the glitch. "You sure you don't want to join us? I could give _your ass_ a little something later~!" 

Error fidgeted with his hand on the doorknob. He flung it open and stormed out, letting it slam behind him. 

Geno paused, "I'll take that as a no...?" 

Ink frowned a bit, but turned and smiled to Geno. "He probably just needs some space!" 

Just outside the door and able to hear the two, Error twitched. _No duh I need space, asshole._

He loved his family. He did! But love wasn't enough to fend off his poor moods. No matter how much the sound of the kids' laughter made him smile or the peaceful expression on his husbands’ and brother's faces warmed his heart, he needed alone time to keep him sane. 

Only, even the silence was pissing him off this time.

Growling in annoyance, he marched further away from the house in hopes of finding a tree or some shit to tear down. He felt antsy. Like something was crawling under the skin he didn't have and would drive him into madness if he didn't find a way to get it out. 

_"Destroying worlds isn't a healthy way of expressing yourself!"_ he grumbled in annoyance, _"Try art!_ Like hell I'll try art, rainbow bastard."

He kicked a rock, scowling. "Spa day. Disgusting. Why the hell would I want goop on my face. When I can just hit someone- I mean something- in the face." 

Silence greeted him. Naturally. He glanced around, frowning suddenly. They should be here. He should’ve seen one by now. Where.... where were the targets? He stopped, looking at the acres that surrounded him. He'd set up targets for his strings everywhere, but... 

"Looking for these?" 

Error glanced up, gaze meeting Reaper's, then glancing down to see the life-sized dolls the god carried by their puppet strings. 

"...I'm going to kill you." He growled, annoyed. "Do you know how long it took to set those damn things up? I had them placed _perfectly!"_

"You left them out a bit too long." Reaper said, unconcerned by the death threat thrown his way. "It rained a few nights ago so now they're all soggy and kind of gross. Also, someone saw what they thought were dead bodies hanging from the trees and I got blamed for it."

"So you took them down?!"

"No, I left them up," the god grinned, "until I saw you heading outside just now."

A violent twitch ran through Error, his fingers itching to tear the strings from his eyes if only so he could ring his insufferable husband's neck with them. "You waited until I wanted to use them to take them down?!"

Reaper shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeah. You seemed pissed. Wanna chat?" 

He ripped strings from his eyes, snarling, "No. I fucking don't." 

Reaper smiled, dropping the dolls. They flopped over each other, looking like a pile of bodies. Error flinched, growling, "Do you understand how much _fucking time_ I spent on those shits?" 

"No, but I bet you're gonna tell me." 

"They're _life-sized_ , you fucker!" Error shouted, his hand cutting through the air and a snarl tearing from his throat when Reaper easily dodged his strings. "A four-inch doll alone can take fucking forever! Multiple targets the size of a small skeleton?! _It took me days to finish all of them!"_

Chuckling as if Error was telling him jokes rather than attacking, Reaper smiled wider. "Should I be concerned that they're the same size as Gen?"

"You should be concerned that I'm going to fucking _murder you!"_ He growled, stepping forward and redirecting his strings. Again, Reaper dodged, his movements so fluid it almost looked like he danced away. "Stop _moving_ , asshole!"

The god's smile turned sharp. "What? I'm too hard to catch?"

A fire seemed to light in Error's eyes. "Are you _challenging me_ right now?!" 

"Heh. I'm surprised you were able to destroy anything." 

**"What?!"** Error whipped his wrists, intending for his strings to wrap around Reaper's middle. 

Reaper stepped further back. "Gotta try harder than that, love~!" 

Enraged, Error leapt forward. 

Instead of jumping backwards in an attempt to maintain their distance, like Error expected, Reaper lunged forward with a wide, eager grin and met him in the middle of the yard. A flash of cyan alerted Error to the use of magic and he twisted just in time to avoid the swipe of Reaper's famed instrument of death. 

Landing on the ground in a crouch, he shouted, "Are you trying to fucking kill me?!"

"Aren't **you** trying to kill **me?"** Reaper shot back, brow raised. 

"You'll come back!" He growled, though he didn't want to actually kill his husband. Just maim.

The scythe was twirled in slow, expert circles. "So would you. Don't worry though, Ru." Reaper grinned and darted forward again, the distance between them quickly closed, "I love you too much to **actually** kill you. The blade on this one is harmless." 

Error grinned, “You should get the other one,” he easily blocked the scythe with strings stretched between his hands. He wrapped them around the scythe, tossing it away. “Otherwise I won’t think of this as a real fight.” 

Reaper grabbed Error's wrist, “It isn’t babe,” he pulled the other in close and wrapped his other arm around his waist, "Wanna know why skeletons don't usually fight?" 

Error startled. He ducked out of the other's arms and got space between them before summoning several red bones. "Not particularly." He shot them at his husband... 

Who simply grinned, "It's cuz they _lack the guts”_ , and dodged all the bones. Except for one, which he caught and admired. "Huh, getting a little _excited_ , Error?" 

A blush formed on the glitch's face. "Shut up, ya dumbass!" 

Reaper winked and slid his hand down the attack suggestively. "There _are_ better things my mouth could be doing, but why deprive you of my wonderful commentary?"

"You're such a fucking ass!" He snapped, yellow blush worsening.

Hand sliding back up the attack, the god chuckled. "I wouldn't mind fucking your as-"

Quickly, Reaper lashed out with the attack to fend off another red bone aimed for his head. Both attacks dispersed upon meeting but Error was quick to summon another wave to follow up.

Reaper flashed him a smile just before disappearing again.

Error froze slightly, retreating to a small crop of trees. He strung his strings up, then retreated into the nest to look around for Reaper. He felt something touch his ass. He yelped, jumping up with a sharp bone attack. "DAMMIT, REAPER!" 

The god chuckled lowly, though the glitch couldn't pinpoint where the noise came from. "I wondered if you'd formed ecto. I guess not." 

Error snarled, looking around. "Are you _seriously_ using your hiding-god-sense thingy on me right now?" 

“How else would we make this fun, Ruru~? Oh! Are you going to punish me?"  
"S-stop that! Don't sound so _excited_ about-!" 

"C'mon, catch me, lil Ruru! I'm getting bored," his whining voice was so close, so teasing- “C’mon _play with me_ , Ruru!” the implied dirtiness was masked with a snicker interrupting the nickname. Error almost slipped out his nest. 

Flushed, Error narrowed his eyes and retreated further back on his web-like bed of strings. "Who the fuck are you calling _little_ , asshole?" he growled, eyes darting around as he continued creeping back. All he could see were branches and his threads. "You're not that much taller than me, you fuck."

"Is that name an insult," he voice was closer, "or what you want me to do to you?"

His back hit the trunk of the tree he was closest to and he growled at the open, seemly empty air before him. "When I get my hands on you-!"

Reaper reappeared, his smile a hair away from Error's scowl. "You'll what?" he purred.

Error startled, his head slamming back into the trunk with a hollow thunk! But he just stared at Reaper for a second. Two. 

_Why is it so hard to fight this dumb asshole...?!_

"Well...?" Reaper tilted his head slightly, his whispery breath hot on Error's cheek. "What will you do...?" 

He shivered, then smirked. 

Strings snatched the god up by his ankles, snapping him up up up until he was upside down. The strings crawled around Reaper's body, immobilizing his arms to his sides. "Looks like I caught you." 

"Did you?" 

Error's sockets widened. "Don't you fucking dar-"

Reaper disappeared.

And Error **screamed** with fury.

Reaper's chuckle echoed around them. "You seem a little flustered there, former destroyer! Like you've got a lot of pent up energy? Heh, your dolls will probably snag me faster than you at this point." 

"WHY are you playing around with me!?! What do you gain from this?!" 

"... what do **you?"**

"A fucking headache!" 

A sigh replaced the laughter. "You need to learn how to _relax_ , hon."

"I don't want to _relax_ , damnit!" He growled, jumping from his nest and dragging more strings from his eyes. Reaper could be _anywhere_ but the glitch kept close to the trees where there were more obstacles for him to work around. "I shot down Ink's fucking spa day because I didn't want to relax, damnit!"

A teasing hand brushed his cheek, "Then what **do** you want, Error?"

"I want to break your stupid groping hands!" Snarling, he shot out with his strings. A miss. "I want to break **something!** I want to-!"

"Cut loose?"

"Yes!"

Error's back met the ground after a single powerful shove. Before he could regain his bearings, Reaper was back in his line of sight, hovering over him with his chin resting on folded arms and his feet kicked up behind him in the air. 

"It's a good thing you're married to a god now, isn't it?" Dark sockets peered into Error's annoyed gaze. "I'm pretty sturdy, you know? I can take just about anything you throw," Reaper smirked, "and give it back even **harder."**

Breath catching in his throat, Error stared at up at the idiot dumbly. "Are you trying to fight me or fuck me, asshole?"

"Why not both?" Reaper questioned in a low, sensual purr. "I'm interested in seeing the destroyer in **action** , Ru. So why don't you show me what you're **really** made of instead of fooling around? Or are the rumors more impressive than the real deal?"

Torn between lust and rage, Error thrust a bone attack from the ground up into Reaper's robes, tearing through them easily. 

Surprised, Reaper floated back. He looked at the tears and pouted. "Aww this one was brand-" he gasped as, attack after attack, his robes became more and more shredded. 

Once the attacks stopped, the pieces fell to the strings. And Reaper found himself bare. The god looked up, "If you wanted me to **strip** , ya coulda just asked, darling." At Error’s flustered, lustful gaze, Reaper snickered, “You were expecting my ecto to be formed, weren’t you? You naughty boy.” Reaper started his own flurry of attacks. 

Error blocked most of them, evading others. He fired off more bone attacks, with strings around them to more precisely control where they went. 

Reaper pulled out the real scythe, blocking them easily. “Aww Ruru, don’t put more distance between us, darling!” 

“Shut up you dolt!” 

“Heh, dolt is a lot nicer than dumbass~!” 

“Bastard!” 

“Ah. Well, can’t win them all, I suppose.” 

Error paused his assault, huffing and glaring at his naked husband. “How are you not _bothered_ like that?!” 

“How are you?” 

“What…” Error looked down, yelping when he saw that he was in nothing but his underwear. “WHEN DID YOU-?!” 

“You were distracted, love!” Reaper laughed. 

Error huffed, stringing Reaper around his wrists and bringing him close. Reaper startled, glancing up at his wrists, then down to the shorter skeleton. Error glared, narrowed his sockets. He tilted his head. “Not gonna disappear on me?” 

The mood shifted when Error noticed a heat rise in Reaper’s sockets. “Are you?” 

“…no.” Error matched the heat with a kiss. Reaper shut his eyes, enjoying the new feeling. He licked the other’s teeth, asking for permission, and when the other opened up- 

Reaper blinked in surprise, breaking the kiss. Error’s eyes startled open, an embarrassed flush forming across his face. “What, dumbass?!” 

“You have more than one tongue!” 

“Y-yes…?! And…?! Ya gotta problem with-?!” 

“No…” Reaper’s smile softened, interest in his sockets. “I already told you, didn’t I? I love you.” 

Something in Error’s sockets changed. It… _oh my stars_ … Reaper was struck speechless. “Love you too, dumbass,” Error muttered with the smallest, softest smile the god had ever seen on his face. He pulled Reaper close, kissing him again. 

_Not fair…! I haven’t even gotten my breath back!_ But _ohh_ … the way Error used his tongues… _Was it possible to re-fall in love?_

_Hang on…when did the god even realize he loved this glitch…?_

Error broke the kiss and, holding onto Reaper tight, yanked them up into the string nest to continue their activities. Reaper eyed the former destroyer with excitement and interest. How would he use his strings…? “I hope you don’t mind things rough?” Error growled. 

Reaper felt heat immediately creep into his face. _That... sounded exactly like something he told Ink, didn't it?!_ “N-no!” Reaper chirped, cringing at the noise. 

Reaper wasn’t sure how he was liking the predatory glint in Error’s eye. It excited him, especially when Error settled himself between his- 

_SNAP!_

The nest wobbled. Startled, Error tried to fix it. “No wait, put this string on that branch-!” 

“Would you stop it?! I know what I’m doing!” He set out more strings, but the nest just wobbled more, and more snaps could be heard. 

“What in _stars_ name are you two doing?!” 

Error lost his focus. The entire string nest collapsed and the two fell to the floor with a huff. Geno startled, a blush rising in his face. “O-oh! Y-you two were-?!” He whirled on his heel. “D-don’t mind me!!” 

Reaper and Error exchanged glances and started laughing. Geno all but ran back into the house. 

Error rolled onto the ground by Reaper. After they got done laughing, Reaper found Error’s hand and held it. They watched the sky fade to darkness between the trees and the strings that still managed to stay stuck in the branches. 

When the stars emerged, Reaper turned and glanced at Error. Error’s gaze seemed distant. He rubbed the back of the glitch’s hand with his thumb. “Raincheck?” 

Error smirked, “Yeah.” Groaning, he stood and hauled Reaper to his feet. “Come on ya dumbass. Let’s get you some clothes, I guess.” 

“You don’t want to see me parade around the house like this?” Reaper winked. 

Blushing, Error scowled, “No! The kids don’t need to see that!” 

Reaper laughed. “Whatever you say, love.” 

“S…stop that, jerk!” 

Reaper nuzzled Error’s face, “What, love? Darling? My knight in dark armor?” 

“I’m going to hit you, you little shit,” Error hissed. He reached to hide his face behind his turtleneck, forgetting that it got shredded. “Dammit!” He ripped a hole and stepped passed Reaper through the portal. 

Reaper followed just as Error shut it. “Aww, my little darklight, come back~!” 

“GO GET YOUR CLOTHES ON, YOU STUPID IDIOT!” 

Laughing, Reaper teleported to his own bedroom. Error could still hear the dumbass chuckling through the wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So Error and Reaper referred to each other as husbands a lot in this chapter, don't they? Remember in the previous chapter, where Reaper has a moment of "Well not yet" when Ink mentions his husbands? Mostly, they kinda forgot that the four of them are not officially married, though it's also because it's easier to refer to each other as such.
> 
> Just in case there's any confusion with this chapter, this is why!


	9. Fresh Spright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some soft stuff and activities occur!

_“Ah, broski! Heard quite a bit ‘boutcha!”_

_“Apparently, not enough. You’re still here talking to me.”_

_“Ya don’t scare me, broski. Destroyin’ AUs ain’t as bad as takin’ ‘em over.”_

_“…what…?”_

_“So, ya haven’t heard of me, have ya? Heh, that ain’t gonna fly, brah.”_

_“You think you’re going to get out of here alive?”_

_“’Course I will. You? Not quite, lil destroyer brah.”_

 

Error startled at the skeleton that sat across from him. The skeleton smiled brightly, his sunglasses flashing to: “Hey-Bro!” as he set a pair of cups and muffins down between them. Error blinked and smirked, “Fresh.” 

“Yo, wassup, Error brah!” 

 

_“The name’s Fresh. I’m just ya friendly neigh **bro** hood-”_

_“I don’t give a **shift** who you… Did you just **funking** censor me?!”_

_“Not a fan of da curses, my dude. Super un **fresh** if ya ask me. Hehe.”_

 

The destroyer glanced out the window of the tea shop they were in. “Quite a bit…” 

“Yeah, ya don’t like keeping in contact, bro,” Fresh tilted his head slightly. “Somethin’ on ya mind?” 

Error was slow to look back at him. “How’s your soul…?” the question was quiet, offering the other a chance to change the subject. And was a delay tactic, to a degree. Error really did care about the strange skeleton in front of him, but... 

Fresh’s smile faded slightly. “It’s… unstable still…” 

“Sci’s doing his job?” 

“He’s doing the best he can…” 

Error put his arms on the table and leaned closer. “Fresh, don’t lie to me.” 

Fresh looked down. “Sci can’t… there’s nothing else he can do. Bro, that thing ate part’a my _soul_. That… that **stuff** just don’t grow back easy. Sci said it won’t. So I decided I’ll just up’n do my own thing.” He shrugged carelessly, picking up his drink, “Visit my bros. How’s Geno-brah?” 

 

_There was another bird-thing thrown from the abomination’s pocket. Well, he tossed it up and cracked a bat across it, sending it hurtling towards the destroyer. The destroyer caught it in his strings. “Fuuuuurbyyyyy,” it cried, just a millisecond before it exploded. Error was sent flying backwards, saved only by more strings he manipulated to catch himself._

_“Huh!” The abomination called Fresh chuckled. “You’re lastin’ longer than others who’ve tried ta kill me. Ya got an interest in being my host? Or in my host itself?”_

_Sneering, Error replied, “No, I’ve got a mission to destroy all abominations.”_

_“Yerself included? Dats cold, brah.”_

_“I’ll be the last abomination gracing this stupid multiverse.”_

_“’S that so? Huh. Heard ya’ve got enemies making it difficult for ya. Maybe I should give ‘em a ring.”_

 

“Geno’s fine. Actually, that’s the reason why I called you,” Error leaned back in his seat, starting to pick at his muffin. Chocolate? Heh, his brothers knew him too well… “Geno and I got married several months ago-” 

“Ya, remember Geno-brah’s baby shower,” Fresh’s smile widened. 

“Yeah, uh, well… the four of us are married together. 

 

_It’s been four months since the four of them decided to live together. A month ago, was when they all officially got the documentation and rings. They didn’t want to spend too much money on a grand wedding, with the kids needing to be looked after. Reaper was disappointed, probably having wanted to see all three of his husbands dressed up. Geno had muttered something about the kids and Reaper instantly caved._

_For now._

 

Fresh’s sunglasses read “??-??”. “Ya actually _married_ Geno brah? How does that work?” 

“U-uh, well, we don’t uh-” 

“Sin together?” 

“Y-yeah… we don’t do _that._ It’s just, the four of us had been so busy with starting house renovations and taking care of the kids, and our jobs-” 

“Ya don’t gotta explain yourself to me, bro. When can I visit the kids again?” 

Error stared at him. “…you’re taking this fairly well…” 

He shrugged. He sipped his drink and glanced away. 

“…seriously, Fresh, what’s-” 

“I’ve been considering a name change.” 

Error blinked a few times. That was… abrupt…? “A name change?” 

The other tilted his head back to Error. “You haven’t noticed my wardrobe change?” 

The destroyer blinked again and focused on Fresh’s clothes. Though there were still several clashing colors, the colors themselves were muted. He still wore a baseball hat, but it was facing forward, and lacked the spinning thingy at the top. “It’s… not as obnoxious.” 

“Bro, it kinda feels weird to try’n wear my own clothes, ya know? I get these… image flashes when I do… Anyway, I was thinkin’… call me Spright.” 

“Spright.” Error narrowed his eye lights. “Spright… sounds like a human beverage.” 

He laughed. “Ya, Sci was tellin’ me a buncha human stories, and how there’s these lil dudes called faeries and they all up’n do stuff with magic?” He shrugged. “I dunno, he mentioned ‘sprites’ being these agile lil dudes. Then he said somethin’ bout sprites coming from the word spirits? And I got to thinkin bout how I wanted to lift **my** spirits, and what better way than ta change my name from that paras- uh, the incident…? So I wouldn’t be reminded bout it whenever someone called me?” 

Error watched his brother’s reaction the whole time he explained the name. Honestly? It made sense. He deserved that name change. Especially after such a shitty experience. 

 

_The abomination had bone attacks pinning his legs. It summoned more attacks and pinned Error by the forearms. He shrieked in rage. The abomination captured his jaw with one hand, prying it down until Error’s mouth was open. “Don’t squirm, broski, or you’ll make it worse on ya’self.”_

_The abomination moved closer, tentacles and a piercing eye stared at Error through it’s mouth. The destroyer screamed, struggling harder against the bone attacks._

_Their mouths met. Error shuddered at the feel of tentacles trying to slide past his tongues._

_His eye lights flashed, and the abomination’s host pulled away screaming._

_The tentacle abomination tore between the two._

_Uncaring of the pain, Error ripped one of his arms free from the bone attack and snagged the trapped half that was in his mouth. He threw it into the air where it dissolved in a large glitchy Gaster Blaster’s blast. He freed the rest of his limbs and strung up the host, who was now choking on the second half._

Fuck no. _This little bitch isn’t getting away that easily, Error snarled and shoved his hand into the host’s mouth. He reached for the struggling tentacle monster that tried to infect him and he **ripped it out.**_

_It’s shriek was more a high pitched wail. It struggled was futile against the angered destroyer, and Error took great pleasure in destroying it with another glitchy blast._

_He sat back, huffing and shuddering. The memory of the tentacles made Error turn and vomit._

_“Thank… thank you…” a normal-ish voice whispered. Error glanced to the still-strung-up host. Or ex-host. He was weeping. “P-please… my world’s gone… I-”_

_“I’m not killing more of those things.”_

_“No… it’s… I’m surprised you were able ta…” the skeleton’s sunglasses flashed to “END-ME”, and he murmured, “I sh-shouldn’t-”_

_“…stop.” Error wiped his mouth and stood. He dropped the ex-host from his strings, growling. “Stop it. How long did you survive with that cursed thing in you?”_

_“…?” The skeleton looked up. “I’m… I don’t… wait, bro, are you…? I thought you were gonna kill all da abominations…?”_

_“Oh I will. In time.” Error wasn’t comfortable with this anymore. He narrowed his eyes and snarled, “You should figure your fucking life out before I swing by and kill you, ya got me ya filthy abomination?”_

_The glasses flickered to “Ha-Ha”, and the skeleton cracked a smile. “Yeah… sure thing…”_

 

Error smiled slightly. “Spright, huh? Well, nice to meet ya.” 

Spright’s grin turned genuine. “Thank you, bro. So, when can I see the kiddos again?”

——

When they reached the house, Geno flung the door open and hugged the both of them. Error shrieked, “GET OFF ME!”

“Spright! Error! You’re home!!” 

Spright startled, chuckling uncertainly at the smaller skeleton. “H-how’d ya know ‘bout my name change, bro?” 

Geno pulled away slightly, smiling. “Error texted me about it. I like it!” 

Spright glanced to Error, who scowled and shoved him away by his head. “Shut up idiot.” 

Reaper peered out from behind Geno. “Gen said you three were going to hang out somewhere?” 

Error nodded, “Yeah. We’re celebrating our unofficial brotherhood day.”

“Oh Reaps! This is Spright!” 

Reaper inclined his head to the strange skeleton. “I’ve heard many things about you,” he smiled. “My name is Reaper, also known as Death the Elder.” 

“D-Death…?” Spright chuckled uncertainly. 

The god merely nodded, a cool smile on his face. Geno nudged his ribs sharply. “Be nice!” 

“Hey, I am nice!” Reaper bent down and kissed Geno’s head, then Error’s forehead. “Be safe you three. Spright? If you want, you can crash at our place when you all get home. Ink and I will keep our phones charged and nearby.” 

“Yeah, we’ll probably call you,” Error shook his head, “Squid’ll probably forget to keep it with him.” 

Geno grabbed Error’s and Spright’s hands, smiling brightly at Reaper, “See you later, hon!” Error ripped open a portal and the three of them stepped through. 

Ink called out, “Reaps! Did they say when they’d be back?” 

“No, but we can take care of PJ and Goth when they’re gone. It shouldn’t be hard!”

——

They reached a Grillby’s bar. Error shooed his brothers away and went to the counter to grab the drinks. Geno was chatting excitedly with Spright, catching up with him, while Spright tried to match his enthusiasm and asked about the kids and living with so many other people.

Error sat down with them, resting a hand on his fist. “Spright, are you drinking tonight?” 

“Ya bro. That parasite didn’t like it, so I’m celebratin’!” 

“Just don’t go too fast!” Geno smiled. He looked to Error. “What did you order us?” 

“Loaded french fries, pizza, chicken nuggets. A buncha mixed drinks,” he shrugged carelessly. “I said, “We wanna try one of everything.” 

“Oh stars.” 

Spright laughed. “Well, guess we’re goin’ all out!” 

The drinks started coming in. It took three shots for Geno to be buzzed. Spright had a little bit more, but was pacing himself with water. Error challenged himself to drink either one glass or one shot for every one his brothers had. 

…yeeeah…

 

Reaper got a call at nearly 3:30 in the morning. True to his word, he was still awake. He answered, “Hell-?” 

“REASP! HELP!” broken giggling could be heard in the background. 

And a loud fire siren. 

“…what happened…?” 

Spright was suddenly on the phone, “Ohhhh oh Mr. Death? H-hii uhm, Geno thinks you’re cute- OW! Hey that was rude!” 

“I have a ring on my finger!” that was Geno’s slurred voice. “It… YEAH!” Reaper jumped slightly at the yell. “There’s a lil skull here! Skulls are Reaper! But Reaper’s is the cutest one!” 

“Where’s Error?” Reaps asked. 

“Oh! Dream’s-!” Again the phone was snatched, and Dream’s breathless voice sounded over the phone, “R-Reaper? I… I need a little backup! They’re trying to arrest Error for burning down Grillby’s!” 

“…WHAT?!” 

“I h-hate to ask this of you b-but I really need hel- GENO _NO!_ NO PUT YOUR CLOTHES BACK ON!” 

Geno’s complaining echoed over the speaker, and Reaper found himself taking a short cut to where they were- 

To be immediately attacked by Geno. “REAPSY-POO!!!” he giggled. 

Spright was sitting on the curb, giggling at pictures in Error’s wallet. 

Behind them?

_Oh stars…_

The Grillby’s of this AU was completely burned down, with firefighters still trying to smother the flames. The owner of the establishment was chasing after a stumbling Error, who kept tossing strings at him and screaming about not being a spider so _stop chasing him!_

Reaper sighed, peeling Geno off him, “Hold my husband for me please, Dream?” 

“Sure…” he hugged Geno, who stared up at him with a wide socket. 

“OHHH, CAN YOU TEACH ME TO TURN MY EYE INTO A STAR!!” 

Reaper shortcutted in front of Error and wrapped him in a hug. “Going somewhere, darklight?” 

Error yelped, turning his gaze up to Reaper. He squinted, “You’re not wearing the necklace I made you.” 

“I was going to wear it when we get home.” 

Grillby skidded to a halt, his fire raging red. Reaper glanced at him. “I’ll cover the repairs.” His eye light flickered dangerously, and the Grillby backed off. 

Error reached up and grabbed Reaper’s face, pulling him down into a kiss that left Reaper’s mind buzzing. 

_Little shit knows how to use his tongues, but gods, what has he been drinking…?!_

Hoots and hollers could be heard from Spright. When Error broke off, he yelled out, “I’M MARRIED TO THE GOD OF DEATH!” Reaper cringed, grinning at seeing the destroyer let loose. Though glancing at the smoke behind him made the god somewhat nervous. 

At least no one died? 

…

…

He should probably get them home before that changed… 

The surrounding crowd was murmuring about Death being called there and Reaper really _really_ didn’t want to deal with that headache today. 

He lifted Error into his arms and walked over to Dream, who still held Geno in a tight hug. Spright looked up at him, “BROS! You married literal tall dark and handsome!” 

Dream chuckled, seeing the slight blush on the god’s face darken. “Alright Spright-” 

“Wooooah, how’d you know my name.” 

“…you… you told it to me…?” Dream smiled shyly. “C’mon dear, we’re gonna get you to a bed, okay? Aren’t you tired from all this excitement?” 

Geno was pouting at Reaper, “Awww Reapsy-poo didn’t kiss me hello…” 

Reaper had to bite his tongue to keep from grinning and teasing his first husband. Dream opened up a portal, and the two sober skeletons hustled the three drunks back to Reaper’s house. Geno drug his feet, complaining, “I don’t wanna sleep! We were having so much fun!” 

Error, on the other hand, passed out as soon as Reaper picked him up. Drool was already trickling from his mouth. Spright stumbled onto the couch, landed face-first, and was out. 

Dream and Reaper exchanged glances. “Uh… I guess that works…?” Dream asked with a hesitant smile. 

Reaper smiled back slightly. “Could you help me open the door to Error’s room? It’s up the stairs. Gen, honey? C’mon, if you go up to our room, I’ll give you all the kisses you could ever want~!” 

Geno pouted at him, mumbling something about favorites. 

“What was that darling?” 

Geno blushed brightly and ran up the stairs, almost stumbling into the wall. 

Dream withheld his laugh. “Gotta say… I don’t think I’ve ever seen Error drunk before.” 

“Me either.” Reaper peered at the destroyer’s face, smiling softly at how calm he looked for once. They walked up the stairs, and Dream glanced at the door just after the one Geno disappeared into. “Yeah, that’s their room,” Reaper confirmed. 

The guardian opened the door, freezing slightly at what he saw. 

Ink was curled up around a large pillow. No clothes. His blankets were a pile on the floor. He didn’t even stir at the door opening. 

With a blush, Dream looked away, stuttering something about an AU needing specifically just his help, and he vanished. 

Reaper stared at the resulting golden glitter that faded fairly quickly. He glanced in at Ink curiously. 

…what an interesting story the artist is going to tell the god tomorrow… Reaper stepped in, tucking Error in by Ink. “Sleep well. You’re going to hate everything tomorrow.” The god kissed his husband’s heads, then left them to their peace. 

He walked into his own room, expecting Geno to be sulking in the corner. Instead, his first love had stripped off his clothes with the exception of his underwear and his soiled white shirt. He was trying to get comfortable, but the moment he saw the god, he flung his hands outwards. “Reapsyyyy!” he whined. “I’m cold!” 

Reaper chuckled lowly, but walked over and crawled into bed by him. “I suppose you want me to-?” 

Geno interrupted him with a sloppy, drunk kiss. Reaper kissed him back, holding his cheek in one palm. Geno broke off, appearing to be satisfied, and he flopped down on Reaper’s body. “Ooof.” Reaper peered down at him. “Are you comfortable?” 

“No.” Geno squirmed until their legs were entangled and his arms surrounded Reaper’s hips. “Where’s your ecto.” Amused, Reaper formed it under his robes. Geno smiled and, in under five minutes, was sound asleep. 

Reaper held him close, smiling too. 

_Man, they were going to fucking hate the morning…_ Reaper chuckled to himself.


	10. Hangovers and Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the brothers suffer the consequences of their actions, and other stuff happens!

The house woke to an incredibly strong scent of coffee. Aside from emergency lights lining the ceiling and rails, insisted upon by Geno for the kids’ safeties, the house was dark. Spright groaned from his place on the couch. He peered around the living room, mumbling, “Bro…?” 

Reaper glanced over from the kitchen, his voice surprisingly soft, “Error and Geno are upstairs. Would you like some coffee? There’s some chocolate chip bagels I can toast up for you, and I’ll be making pancakes in a bit too.” 

Spright stared blearily at him. “Hnn… Death makin’ coffee… Death’s makin’ me breakfast…” a weak chuckle made it past his teeth before he cringed and grabbed his head. 

“Heh, it appears I am,” Reaper tilted his head slightly. “How’s your head?” 

 

_“I betcha my Furbies are more powerful than your blasters!”_

_Geno’s eye light sparked. “You’re on!”_

_Error immediately pulled out his phone, switching over to the camera app-_

 

Spright rubbed his forehead, then felt up his skull. “My hat…” 

“On the coffee table next to your sunglasses.” 

He froze, eye lights darting to Reaper, but the god had turned back to focus on making breakfast. Spright touched the scars from the Fresh parasite and quickly grabbed his glasses. After a moment, he murmured, “Uh… where’s the bathroom…?” 

“Upstairs, fifth door on the right. Or just in that little closet by the stairs. I think Gen called it a ‘water closet’ or something?” 

“Fifth…?” groaning, Spright dragged himself to his feet and shuffled to the closet. The second he got inside, he was puking. 

 

_Grillby came by, his hands folded together. “I’m going to have to insist you three tone it down a bit. We need to lock the doors in another hour and you three haven’t slowed down-”_

_“He-HEY!” Geno slammed his drink down and pointed at Grillby. “Why…you’re on **fire!** Dude! You’re real… **smokin!** Eheheh…”_

_Grillby fought back a frustrated huff. “Yes. Don’t I just **light** up your night? Listen, just have some more waters, and I’ll call you a cab okay?”_

_Geno was waving his glass around, “Waters? I have water right here!”_

_Water that splashed onto Grillby and sizzled his arm._

_All four of them looked at the resulting… anti-burn?_

_Grillby growled, “Out. Now.”_

_“SCATTER!” Spright screamed-_

 

Reaper looked up to the stairs, seeing Geno grab the railing then slowly thump down each step. He groaned, “Reaps…?” 

The god grinned. “Long night, darling?” He floated over and helped Geno down the rest of the steps. “I got a fresh cup of coffee for you, love. And a chocolate chip bagel.” 

“I…” he sniffed and grabbed his skull, “I love you so much.” 

“Heh, I know.” 

“I puked by the bed.” 

Reaper cringed. “…I know.” 

“…” 

“…” 

“…there’s another pile…” 

The god smiled again, but it was somewhat strained. “Don’t worry about it dear. Have a seat.” 

“DAMMIT INK, WHY’RE YOUR DAMN EYE LIGHTS SO BRIGHT?!” 

“Heh, apparently Error’s awake,” Reaper rubbed Geno’s head, and set a bagel, some water and some pain pills by him. “Take these first and I’ll give you some coffee, okay?” 

He made his way upstairs, where Ink was backing out of their room, laughing. He glanced at Reaper, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “Good morning, Reaper~!” 

“It is not a good fucking morning, you fucking dumbass…” Error groaned from presumably under some covers. 

Reaper continued up to Ink, standing next to the artist to watch their husband try to hide under the blankets. “Ruuu-” 

“No,” the destroyer growled. “You’re too loud and _nothing_ you offer me will get me to leave the peace this darkness gives.” 

Ink and Reaper exchanged glances. “Nothing, you say?” the god grinned. 

“Huh, I suppose we should let PJ and Gothy come snuggle with you?” 

The blankets tightened over the destroyer’s head. “Hnnn… don’t want them to see me like this…” 

Reaper chuckled, “Come on, Error. I’ve got hot cocoa and chocolate pancakes calling your name downstairs.” 

 

_Error slammed his mug down, pointing at Geno. “MY son is better than YOUR son!”_

_Spright stared at Error, ‘!!-!!’ on his sunglasses. Didn’t they adopt each other’s sons? Though the buzz in his head wasn’t helping him remember the answer to that question. He glanced to Geno, “Bro, you gonna let him say that-?!”_

_But Geno was already pulling out his gallery, pointing to an early photo of Goth. “He was already trying to dress himself here!”_

_“Oh yeah?” Error pulled out his own gallery and played a video of PJ’s first walk, “Well, he learned to WALK so he could get more crayons without needing to ask!”_

_Spright covered his mouth, eyes locked onto the video, “Ohhh, that’s so cute!”_

_“Yeah his father and I were so proud!” Error puffed out his chest._

_“Aww-” Geno blinked a few times. “Wait, his father? Aren’t you…?”_

_Error froze, meeting Geno’s curious gaze. The destroyer watched the realization set in on the glitch, and Geno grinned, “Is that why you kept putting off meeting with me for so many months?”_

_“No!” Error growled. “Ink and I were just busy!”_

_“Aww, you carried PJ, Error?” Spright nudged the destroyer. “That’s so cute! I didn’t think you had it in you!”_

_“’Course he had him in him!” Geno giggled._

_A blush spread across the destroyer’s face. “Sh-shut up you idiots! It’s because we worried about Ink not having a SOUL! I was just as surprised when I got pregt- you know what?! No! This conversation is over! PJ is the superior child, and that’s that!”_

_Geno leaned back in his seat, still giggling-_

 

Error slowly rose from the bed, dragging the blanket with him like an over-sized hood and cape. “Chocolate…” he groaned. 

Ink and Reaper exchanged a soft high five, and the former helped Error down the stairs. Spright emerged from the bathroom downstairs. “C-can I have some water…?” 

“Of course!” Reaper peered curiously at the former-host. “Breakfast is almost ready.” 

The hungover skeletons and Ink sat around the table, waiting for Reaper to dish out some pancakes and more pain pills. Reaper finally sat down with them and they all began eating. 

It was comfortable silence, until Geno squinted around the table, “Where are the kids…?” 

“Respite took them out to the park for the morning. They should be home soon.” At Spright’s confused expression, Reaper half smiled, “My brother.” 

Geno spoke up softly, “We kept mistaking who’s Papyrus we were talking about, between mine and his, so Ink suggested Respite for Reaper’s brother, and he liked it.” A smile in the survivor’s direction, “Guess you’re not the only one with a name change, bro?” Spright smiled back. 

“You said you were going to have the kids snuggle with me,” Error sounded pretty annoyed, but it was hard to tell exactly why. 

Ink smiled innocently at his first husband, “Yes, because we knew you’d crawl out of bed, love.” 

“Bastard.” 

“Love you too~!” 

A light yellow appeared on the destroyer’s face, and he turned his attention back to his pancakes, “Devious little shit.” 

That made the artist laugh harder.

——

Ink was too busy staring at his blank sketchbook and fiddling with a vial of blue to bother checking the caller-ID.

“Ink?” Dream’s voice sounded from the other end. 

Ink startled, nearly dropping the vial. “Oh Dream! How’s it going? Is everything alright?” 

“I kinda need your help with something, but I also wanted to check up on the brothers? They were completely wasted when I got to them.” 

“When you got to them?” Ink switched hands and started pacing in his art room. “What do you mean?” 

“Well, yeah,” Dream sighed, “Error called me about wanting a rematch now that he was a good guy, but when I showed up, the bar was on fire, the owner was chasing after Error, Geno was trying to brag about Reaper and strip, and Spright, for some reason, had at least 10 different undies and bras on him…” 

Ink almost tripped. _Ten pieces of undergarments…? What a player! Hmm... I wonder what happened to them...?_ Ink made a note at the bottom of his scarf, smiling to himself. 

“…So I just wanted to make sure they were okay!” 

“Make sure who was okay?” 

“…the brothers? Error, Geno, and Spright?” 

“Oh yeah! Geno and Spright are off taking another nap before lunch, and Error’s venting.” 

“…” 

Ink paused his pacing again, capping and uncapping the vial. “Dream?” 

“What do you mean, ‘venting’? I thought he said he was done with destroying worlds?” 

“Y-yeah he is…?” Ink frowned, trying to imagine Dream on the other side of the call. _Was he pacing too?_ “What’s the matter? I don’t feel any worlds being destroyed right now.” 

Dream sighed. “No, which is suspicious by itself… Hey, can you meet with me in the Doodle Sphere? Another pair of sockets might really help me. I have a bad feeling but I don’t know why…” 

“Sure, I can pop over right now.” The artist hung up. He stared down at the uncapped blue vial, lost in thoughts. Ink licked the blue. The second his expression shifted, he replaced the vial and sipped some yellow. 

The blue’s effects were still there. 

Ink sighed and opened a portal with Broomy before dropping through the paint. He smiled brightly at Dream who was indeed pacing. Dream looked up. He ran over for a hug. “Thank goodness,” he murmured, squeezing Ink tightly. 

“Hi- oh?” Ink blinked at the slightly smaller skeleton. “Hey, Dream!” he returned the hug, though question marks showed in his sockets. “What’s wrong? What’s your bad feeling about?” Dream pulled away, muttering, “I’m not sure… my brother’s activities had been declining somewhat since Error left. Error kissed me last night. Also, there’s even news that one of the nightmares is dead dead, but nobody knows how or why.” 

“Yeah that’s definitely-” Ink blinked a couple times, meeting the more positive guardian’s sockets again. “I’m sorry, what was that last part?” 

“One of the nightmares is dead and nobody knows how or why?” 

“No, no, the other part?” 

“Nightmare’s activities have been on the decline which is good but suspicious-” 

“Dream.” 

Dream fidgeted, “Error kissed me last night…? Before trying to start a fight with me?” He sighed heavily. “He thought I was you and when I showed up he kissed me and told me to watch, that he was going to _‘Fight that positive bastard and win your hand in marriage’_ ," Dream used his phalanges for air quotes, "and when he turned around, he recognized me and I had to ask him if he remembered marrying you.” Dream smiled, “His emotions were almost tangible. It’s cute how deeply in love he is with you!” The artist subconsciously reached for the pink vial, though when his fingers grazed the blue one, he hesitated. _I can’t-_

Instead, he grabbed Dream’s hands, eye sockets wide. “Did anyone get photo proof of him kissing you?!” 

“N-no…?” 

Ink muttered a curse. “I would’ve loved to tease him about it…” 

Dream blinked a few times, gaze flicking from Ink’s sash to his sockets. “You’re not mad…?” 

“What? Why would I be mad? I think it’s funny that he’s a drunk kisser. You know, the last time he willingly got wasted? …actually, I don’t even remember… maybe it’s in one of my…? But that’s not the point!” Ink grinned deviously at the guardian. “Did he use his tongues?” 

“T-tongues?” Dream squeaked. “A-as in plural?!” 

A dreamy expression settled onto the artist’s face. “Yeah… plural…” 

“N-no!” Dream stepped away from Ink. “A-alright, I wanted one of us to tell you before you found out through a third party…” 

Ink turned a bright grin to Dream, “Thanks friend. Anyway, back to your brother?” 

“Right…” Dream glanced around the floating islands, smile falling slightly. “There’s still some usual activity regarding them stealing supplies.” 

“Cross and Killer with Underswap’s tacos.” 

“Yeah, exactly, but nothing else yet. It’s really strange…” 

Ink tilted his head. “Why don’t we just take advantage of this peace we’ve been granted? Hey! Maybe your brother turned over a new shell and is living more positively!” 

“Or he’s waiting for us to develop a false sense of security so the devastation will hurt worse…” 

“Wow… that’s dark,” Ink’s smile was somewhat smaller now too, though the yellow he’d ingested before coming in didn’t seem entirely appropriate. _Maybe some grey and some more blue?_ After sipping the colors, Ink murmured, “So… what do you want me to do?” 

Dream was fiddling with his staff, glancing around in the AU islands. “I don’t know… I think we should grab Blue and start checking up on the AUs…?” He looked to the artist, “I hope it’s nothing, but I just want to be sure…” 

Ink tried to smile again. _Too much of the blues and greys_ … “Yeah, we can do that!”

——

_73 unread texts. 26 missed phone calls. 20 unheard voice mails._

_First message: Ink, where are you? Reaps and I haven’t seen you in a bit, and dinner’s supposed to be ready soon. End message._

_Second message: INK!- message deleted._

_Third message: Dammit Stain- message deleted._

_Fourth message: ANSWER. YOUR FU- message deleted._

Ink sighed, deleting all the missed messages and texts without reading or listening to them before calling Error. 

“It’s ABOUT TIME, dammit! Where are you?!” 

The artist had barely enough time to take a breath. He tried for a smile. “Hiya Error! Say, how long does Nightmare stay quiet for?” 

“…the hell…? Why aren’t you home? It’s been almost three days!” 

“Dream and I were checking on the AUs.” 

A long-suffering sigh could be heard. Error softened his voice, “Ink, how is it that your phone is still alive but you forgot to message one of us that you’d be gone for so long? Even PJ’s starting to get worried.” 

“I turned it off? But Err-” 

“You _turned off_ your phone….?! Where are you right now, Ink?!” 

The artist chuckled. “With Dream.” 

“With-?!” 

“Error! Seriously, please, we need to know how long Nightmare waits to cause trouble.” 

Error grumbled some more curses under his breath before saying, “It depends on his plan. Sometimes he’ll wait weeks, other times it’s months.” 

Ink relayed the information to Dream, who started thinking about how long it’s been. “Oh…” 

“If you’re calculating the last time, it was for about a solid month after I left.” 

“Love you, Ru!” 

The artist could too easily picture the scowl that matched the voice, “That so?! Prove it, ya bastard! I haven’t seen your stupid face since I got shit-faced!” 

“And kissed Dream~!” 

He sputtered on the other line, and the call ended. Ink laughed, pocketing his phone. “Dream, I gotta go. I’ll keep a socket out, though, okay?” 

Dream nodded, worry momentarily leaving his gaze as he smiled to Ink. “Have fun, trouble.” 

“Oh always~!” Ink winked and vanished into another paint puddle.

——

The rest of the afternoon passed by in a bit of a blur for the artist. Everyone was home, even Spright, who had been offered a spare bedroom if he wanted to stay a bit longer. Dinner was made and enjoyed. Dishes were done. The whole family gathered for a movie. The kids were put to bed and finally, everyone was in their own rooms.

Ink was staring at the door that separated Geno and Reaper from himself and Error. “We should knock that down one day.” 

“I’m not sleeping in the same bed as my brother,” Error grumbled. 

“You usually sleep in your nests, darling.” 

Error paused his knitting and considered Ink. “True…” Ink grinned at him, pushing his project to the side and sitting on his hips. Error blinked and raised a brow over his glasses. “Whatcha doing there?” 

“I’m more comfortable now.” Ink let himself collapse on the other, happily snuggling into the former destroyer’s chest. The artist paused when the glitches sounded out more erratically, but Error didn’t crash. 

Quite the opposite. 

He moved his project to their bedside table and wrapped arms around Ink’s waist. “You’re a brat.” 

Ink grinned, “You loo~oo~oove me~!” 

“Tch. Annoying.” 

“Endearing.” 

“Bastard.” 

“Soulmate.” 

“Asshole.” 

“Aaaaall yours~!” 

Error sputtered and turned his gaze away, poorly hiding his bright yellow blush. “Shut up, squid.” 

Ink chuckled. He grabbed the blankets between two toes and brought them up over the two of them. “Hmm…. So cozy…” 

“You’re squashing me, stain.” 

“That’s me loving you.” 

“Tch…” Error turned to the side, hauling his catch with him. He rested his forehead on the artist’s and muttered, “Whatever… go to sleep.” The slight smile on the destroyer’s face… _that’s definitely a yellow and a pink combination_ … Ink glanced to the sash that hung by the door. The artist’s smile faded. He closed his eyes and decided that now would be a good time for his shitty memory to start working in his favor… 

 

_“It’s cute how deeply in love he is with you!”_

 

_But I can’t love him back..._


	11. Love...?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which doubts are had.

He poured a lot of time into searching through his sketchbooks. Time that he didn't really remember spending. But, it was worth it when he found what he was looking for. 

It was a simple book with a single word on the front in an elegant script. "Recipes." It was incredibly well hidden because it was _dangerous_ in the hands of his enemies, and for a second, the artist worried that he was becoming his own enemy. 

Shaking the thought away, he skimmed through the table of contents and frantically flipped to the blue section. This was the only book he was obsessed with keeping straight-forward. All his other sketchbooks could afford to be messy and uncontrolled. But this one? No. 

He was running off-topic. He focused back on the section involving the mixes with his blue paints. He'd only ever mixed blue with grey and blue with yellow. He'd been surprised when the second mix resulted in an odd combination of sad and happy instead of producing the disgust that he expected a green to give.

He never mixed his blue with the pink...

Biting his tongue, he unwound his scarf from around his neck and went through the smudged reminders scrawled across it. Finally, he came to the lines marked with what he's looking for.

_Dinner should be done around 7:30, so be home an hour earlier to make sure you're all washed up! I set an alarm for you on your phone. < 3 -Geno_

Beneath that, 

_You forgot your fucking phone so I slipped it in your pocket. -You know who I am_

And one more line.

_I'll come find you if you're still not down ten minutes after the alarm goes off. Error says you like to ignore them. -R < 3 _

His fingers twitched towards his pink. He wanted to swallow it whole, consequences be damned.

But the blank space in his list stopped that. _Blue and pink...?_

_Why does he want to test it when the notes should make him happy? Should fill him with love?_

_Why does he want to ruin what he should be content to leave be?_

_Besides... they wouldn't blend well, would they?_ He'd been surprised when the yellow and blue blended in that unexpected way, but he had no way of knowing how the blues would affect his pinks. Even a drop of the blue with a sip of yellow was enough to have his cheerfulness mellowed out by unsolicited sad thoughts. 

Still, he stared down between his scarf and that blank spot in his notes. In the end, his curiosity won out. _Better he learn now for himself than have an enemy force the knowledge down his throat, right?_

Besides, the pinks and yellows he had were fading anyway. He needed to freshen them up a little. 

He had to glance at the date on his phone before recording it in his sketchbook, but he took the three colors out. He stared for a long moment at them, feeling less and less certain of himself and the decision. When the panic of the void started to set in, he took a sip of the yellow. He let it linger on his tongue before swallowing it and taking an equal sip of the pink. 

_He could stop there. He **should.** This was enough._

_"How do **you** know you love him?"_

_"Hon, it doesn't diminish our feelings for you, and I hope you don't think your paints bother us."_

_"It's cute how deeply in love he is with you!"_

Ink tasted a drop of the blue before returning the three paints to their spots on his sash.

At first, he was sure that something went wrong. He missed his mouth, the combo didn't work, he accidentally took more yellow... _something._

He felt... fine. Well, not fine. He felt yellow and pink. Happy and in love.

But where was the blue?

Frowning a bit through his urge to smile, he fiddled with his scarf while considering the mix he swallowed. As he did so, his eye caught on one of his older notes.

_I love you._

It wasn't signed, but the handwriting was Error's.

Unexpectedly, his hands clenched around the scarf.

Tears started to well in his sockets. _He should get that embroidered there... maybe Error would embroider it for him..._ He choked on a laugh at the thought. _Error would sooner curse him out than do that..._

_But then it would happen overnight with Error's strings..._

_Because that’s just how he is…_

Ink buried his face just under the writing and sniffed- 

_RING RING!_

Startled, Ink fumbled for his phone, seeing the alarm Geno had set for him. _"Dinner in an hour love! - G"_

Heh... he sniffed again and grabbed Broomy from where it was resting against the table.

Unbidden, a laugh jumped out of his mouth. When he and Reaper first began their flirting, the god had questions about Broomy. Interesting, filthy questions that horrified Ink as much as it aroused him. Broomy was precious to him! He couldn't ruin it like that!

...but the things Reaper suggested...

Another laugh but, this time, it came out wet. _Why...why does the pink **hurt**?_ That was a good memory! It was a stepping stone in the path that led to him falling in love with Reaper.

_But I don't really love him, do I? I **can't** love him..._

He tightened his grip on the paintbrush, staring unseeingly ahead. _That's right... he **can't** love any of them... not really..._

His thoughts flashed to his children. Both the one he fathered and the one he adopted. He... 

_He **can't** love them either..._

He dropped to his knees, gripping the brush tighter. 

_This was a mistake... he shouldn't have done this.... it.... it's like the blue was overtaking the yellows and pinks, even though I barely tasted it...!_

The tears were falling harder. Every single good memory that somehow cropped into his mind seemed to be poisoned by the blue. That time when PJ woke him up to show him his first art piece? When Goth asked for a piggyback ride on his shoulders, because Geno was asleep and Error's haphephobia was acting up? When Reaper kissed him good morning and murmured dirty suggestions to him? When Geno shyly asked for cuddles on the couch after the kids were put to nap? 

The most recent moment when Error told him he loved him? 

_All tainted blue._

He didn't understand this. The memories made him happy but the happiness hurt, just like the pink did. 

_His husbands... his sons... he was just lying to them, in the end. Every smile, every "I love you" was just a lie._

"I love you, Goth."

Lie.

"I love you, PJ."

Lie.

"I love you, Reaps, Geno."

Lie, lie-

"I love you, Error."

**L I E**

Gasping through his tears, he blindly reached out and ran a finger down the vials on his sash, counting. When he found the number assigned to yellow, he plucked it out and desperately took a sip. The mouthful was too large to pass off as natural (but none of his feelings were natural, were they?) but it helped lessen the impact of the blue.

A soft _bing_ made him glance down to his phone. It was a text message from Error: _"Are you in trouble?"_

Absently, he took another sip of the yellow and put it back on his sash. He waited a moment until the blue was more a bad taste in his mouth before forcing a smile and sending the reply: _"No, I'll be home to shower in just a few more minutes! ;)"_

The reply was instant: _"...Inky, Spright uses that shower too"_

The yellow finally started working, and a more genuine laugh sounded from him. 

_"That's what bleach is for, love!"_

_"Incorrigible"_

Laughing more, Ink turned his phone off and stood with his brush. "Alright, Broomy. Time to lie to them some more, I guess!" He glanced back to the sketchbook, smile dropping slightly. Quickly, he wrote a note in it and hid it again. Returning to his over-sized paintbrush, he swiped a portal open against the wall and stepped through. 

Error glanced up from his phone when his husband emerged from the paint portal. "You didn't respond." 

"Are you _pouting?"_ Ink teased. 

Scowling, Error grumbled, "No." He narrowed his eyes slightly, standing to take the artist's face in his hands. "...were you crying...?"

Ink wanted to laugh. Panic should be more appropriate, but he was feeling too bubbly to want to ruin it with the mix. Instead, he smiled and nuzzled into the hands squishing his face, his expression only brightening more at Error's blush. _Heh, definitely too much yellow._

"I'm fine, Ruru. I laughed too hard." Wow, he really was a good liar!

"Bullshit," Error snapped, almost making his smile falter, "your sockets are rimmed with rainbows and your symbols are doing that annoying wavering thing they do when you're sad."

_I can't be sad unless I want to be._ "It's nothing, Ruru."

"Ink-"

"My lovely, beautiful Ru." he murmured, "My adorable little-"

"I'm taller than you and don't-"

"-ball of rage."

The corner of his mouth twitched, but the former destroyer sighed. "You're trying to distract me, but it isn't going to work-" 

Ink wrapped his arms around his waist and tugged him closer. "What's not going to work...?" he reached up, nuzzling his chin. 

Error turned away, grumbling. "Dammit, squid..." he scowled. "Fine, you don't want to talk about it? No shower sex." 

"What?! But Ru, I'm _fine!!"_ For now.

"If it isn't a what, then _who_ made you cry?" 

_I did._ "No one, Error." Ink was still smiling at him. "You're gonna miss me in the shower, darlin'~! That's the only twenty minutes we get," he leaned closer, whispering, _"aaaall to ourselves."_ He pulled away to strut towards their bathroom, carelessly tossing pieces of his clothing throughout their room, "Though I guess I could just _beg for Death_ , huh?"

Error twitched violently, his eyes flashing a cluttered red before thankfully returning to normal narrowed sockets. "You're testing me."

Ink's shirt hit him in the face, and he detoured to their bedroom door. "Am I?"

"Yes," Error growled, "and it isn't going to work, dammit."

"Shame. Oh well~ _Reapsy~"_ he called, already peering out their room. "Do you want to help me scrub my-"

Strings curled around his wrists and yanked him back. When he landed on the bed, Ink expected something fun to be awaiting him. Instead, he found the strings anchoring him down to the bedding while Error smirked from the doorway. "Hey, asshole," Error shouted down the stairs, "wanna fuck?" 

"ERROR!" Geno screeched. "YOU'RE LUCKY THE KIDS ARE OUTSIDE WITH THEIR UNCLES!" Seconds later, "REAPER, PUT YOUR FUCKING CLOTHES BACK ON!"

"Awww, come on Gen! I promise I'll make it up to you tonight," they could hear the god purr. 

Ink perked up. "You and Reaps are gonna give me a show?" Unexpectedly, the yellow and pink clashed, and a blush flooded the artist's face. He tugged on the strings and whined, "Ruuu!" 

Error watched Reaper eagerly float up the stairs, before turning a smirk to Ink, "Sorry, did you say something, dumbass?" 

It was the artist's turn to pout. "You're being awfully mean, I just wanted help scrubbing my back!" 

Reaper, now at the entrance next to Error, glanced between them. "Ooo, threesome? Hot."

"You wish." Error snorted, throwing one last wide smirk in Ink's direction before pushing Reaper out the door. "We're going to fuck in your room while Ink showers. He can use his damn paintbrush to scrub his back."

"Are you still jealous of Broomy? I told you I was just kidding about practicing my kissing on it!"

The door slammed behind Error.

"...Ru?"

Ink waited for them to come back. It was only a few moments before the strings relaxed their grip on him, but he didn't move. 

_Lying... always lying to them... to everyone... am I even a protector? Or am I **lying** about being a protector too...? Ink stared up at the ceiling. He should move... he should go shower now. If only to keep up the illusion of being fine._

\---

Ink hovered at the top of the stairs, staring at Error's handwriting on his scarf. Error stared up at him, calling, "Hey, idiot, sit down and eat with us before it gets cold!" Three of the husbands were freshly showered, and their scent lingered in the air. Along with the smells of the two sweaty and muddy uncles and kids, and the lovely scent of freshly baked dinner had the whole living room smelling like...

 _Home..._ Ink gripped his sash, glancing down at each of the people at the table. Each of the members of his new family. 

_At each person he'd been lying to since he met them..._

Strange how the tiniest bit of blue seemed to linger no matter how much yellow he drank...

"Mommy!" PJ shouted, standing on his chair and tiptoes just to catch a glimpse at Ink who continued lingering on the stairs. "Mommy, come sit with me! Gothy's Mama is holding him so I want you to do the same, ‘kay?"

Heh, that cute little commanding tone must have been from Error. "Okay, sweetie." _I don't love you. I'm not even sure I can really **want** to love you._

His smile felt like plastic as he walked down the stairs. His son cheered when he picked him up and settled him on his lap, and the yellow within him continued to shine brightly. _If I stopped drinking paint, would I want to start again? Would I miss my lies?_

He didn't notice the way Geno and Error exchanged glances, or how Reaper kept taking pictures of Goth and PJ. Or Spright and Respite saying hi. Well, he noticed that last part, so he smiled and said hello back. He snuggled PJ in his arms before the little tyke settled down in his lap. 

He noticed Error staring intently at him. 

He ignored it. 

The dinner began, and the conversation was casual. _How was your day? Was work hard? Any plans tomorrow? Did the kids behave?_

It's the shortest and longest dinner Ink ever faced- 

His phone rang with Dream's familiar tone, and the conversation stopped. Apologizing, Ink gave PJ to Error and walked into the next room, "Dream? Is everything okay?" 

"No! That's why I'm calling! Please, can you come over to the Omega Timeline? Uhm... Core has some unexpected guests and we could really use your help." 

Ink tensed. "Yeah. Yeah I'll be right over." He hung up and walked back into the room. "I'm sorry, Dream really needs my help." 

"Need backup?" 

"You know Core won't let you there, Ru," Ink smiled at him. "But thanks. I don't know when I'll be back." 

"Don't worry hon..." Geno's smile was somewhat worried as he watched Ink fiddle with his place setting. 

The artist swung around the table, remembering to reinforce his lies to each family member before he grabbed Broomy and left. 

When the door shut, Error sighed and stared down at the plate. "He probably won't be back until tomorrow the earliest..."

Although PJ seemed a little downcast, the heavy mood went over the children's heads as their parents and uncles started up the conversation again. The same topics are returned to, only...

Spright cleared his throat and grinned, somewhat hesitant, when all eyes jumped to him. "Uh, was I just imagining it, or did Ink-bruh" he cringes a bit, "seem kind of _off?"_

Error and Geno shared a glance. Their brother was always an observant one… "He's...fine." Geno murmured, eye light flickering to the child on his lap and the one seated on Error's.

Over PJ's head, Error mouthed _"bullshit"._

"He didn't join us." Reaper informed Geno, worry hidden behind a smile. Ink would have normally thrown open the bedroom door the moment Error's strings loosened and jumped between them with a shameless grin. The fact that he didn't… 

Geno looked genuinely surprised by that. "R-really...?" 

"He's avoiding whatever's bothering him, too, the idiot," Error stabbed his food a little too harshly before cramming it into his mouth. PJ squealed and reached for some of Error's food. Softening, the former destroyer fed him some. "You _know_ he's just gonna conveniently _forget_ again..." 

"Ru," Reaper began with a frown, "That's not entirely fair..." 

He heaved a frustrated sigh. "I know..." 

"I Am Not Always Here, But What Does His Blue Paint Mean?" 

Error tensed, turning to Respite. "Why?" 

"He Just..." Reaper's brother looked a little uncomfortable. "The Level Of The Blue One Seems To Be Lower Than The Average..." 

"Oh... I didn't realize anyone else would notice that..."

The oldest god of death shrugged. "I noticed it. Gen you did too, right?"

Geno nodded. "I...I wasn't sure if it was a good idea to say anything. Ink's a surprisingly stubborn bastard."

_Like you're one to talk_ , his brothers and husband thought, all sharing a look and silent laugh over the oblivious expression Geno wore as he helped Goth reach his cup.

"Bas-" Error shoved a spoonful of dinner into PJ's mouth and shot Geno a glare the glitch pretended not to see. _Fucking hypocrite!_

"Perhaps You Three Could Confront Him Together?" Respite suggested with an optimistic smile. "Surely He Would Not Brush Off Your Concerns If You Show They Are Shared Among You Three?"

"I dunno," Playing around with his vegetables, Spright frowned into his plate, "Ink ain't really comin' off as ah share-yo-problems kinda guy."

"Unless it's _our_ problems." Error grumbled.

Reaper shot him a thoughtful expression. "...Blackmail? Geno looks really cute and small when he cries. If he tells Ink he's sad because he's sad, maybe he'll spill? Hey, if you cry, Error, it might work better."

Error scowled, "I'm always crying, Reaper." 

"HA-HA", Spright's glasses shimmered with his grin, "Ya don't gotta be dramatic, bro!" 

"Well, we'll just talk to him about it when he gets back!" Geno smiled. 

Reaper glanced at his first husband and narrowed his sockets slightly. "Dang, you're really excited to cry at the drop of a hat if it gets Ink to spill his secrets, aren't you?" 

"Reaps, you said you'd do dishes tonight, right?" 

The god let out a long sigh and returned his attention to his food. 

Res and Spright exchanged glances and half-shrugs. "Well, Good Luck To You All, Then. I Must Make Sure I Am Rested. Thank You, Again, For This Lovely Meal, Geno." 

"Oh, not a problem, Pa- Res!" Geno's smile wavered slightly at the near slip, but Respite was generous and decided not to notice. 

Slowly, the dinner wound down. Reaper and Spright did the dishes while Error and Geno tucked the boys into bed. Sure enough, Ink was still not back yet. 

Not feeling entirely comfortable sleeping in the same bed or room as his brother, Error fell backwards into his bed and hugged a pillow. Ink's scent is still here... 

_Ugh, as if he's dead? He's just at work..._ Error started to drift off, worry in his SOUL the whole time...

-—

There was a soft murmuring near Error's head. "Ru! Error~!" He was being shaken. "Wakey wakey~! I have a date planned for us~!"

"Grrr...." 

A snorting laugh. "C'mon, baby, wakey up-y! Don't make me start a pillow fight with you~!" 

"You better fucking not, squid, I just fucking made these cases," Error's sockets popped open and he whipped his gaze to his first husband. "Ink!" 

"That's me! Or did you forget~?" the artist was lounged in bed with him, a bright grin on his face, and his sockets lidded. "You're so cute when you sleep." 

"Ugh, creep..." but a blush spread across his cheeks. 

"Hurry up and get dressed! I have a date planned for us! A breakfast picnic!" 

Error studied his first for several moments. _He seemed fine... maybe it really isn't anything?_ His eye lights glanced down to check the vials- 

"Sweetie, my eyes are up here?" at Ink's purr, Error became flustered. 

"Sh-shut up, dumbass! I know where your damn eyes are!" 

"Oh? Well then… were you were looking for... something else?" Ink crawled towards him.

Somehow, Ink always had the ability to make him feel like prey being stalked by a wild, hungry predator whenever he looked at Error like _that_. This time around, the expression was even _more_ intense, and he felt a shiver run down his spine as he pushed himself further back, closer to the headboard. He would rather die than admit the shiver was from excitement.

"Fuck off." he tried to growl, only for his voice to strain as his blush worsened when a filthy grin settled on his husband's face. "It's too early for this shit."

"We can skip the breakfast part of the date if you want, love--" Ink purred, his eyes raking over the destroyer's sleep rumpled and skewed clothing. At a hint of collarbone, he licked across his teeth and smirked, his roaming eyes causing him to miss Error's startled stare.

_Did he almost call me love **R**?_ It was hard to tell if there had been a start of a rolling ‘r’ in the word or not. When fingers began toying with the hem of his shirt and Ink sent him a flirty smile though, he decided he was just hearing things and tried to shake off his discomfort. His husband was forgetful, but... _He knows I don't like that name. Inky wouldn't call me it._

"How is it a breakfast picnic date if we skip the breakfast part?" he asked, shuddering pleasantly as a hand slid under his shirt and teeth pressed against his jaw. "F-fuck, what's with you this morning?"

"I can't be happy to see you?"

Weight settled on his lap. Embarrassingly, there was a slight glow coming from just under where Ink was seated. "Get off, idiot. You can be _happy_ to see me after whatever bullshit picnic we have."

Ink ran his hands skillfully up Error’s formed midsection, over his rumpled shirt and up his chest then across his shoulders. “Hmm~? Are you already judging my cooking before even eating it?” 

Error stuttered, “You’re a little shit.” 

The artist just laughed and kissed his chin, keeping eye contact with him. He winked, before crawling out his lap. _“Fine~!”_ he pretended to sound hurt, but his heated gaze roaming Error’s body told the former destroyer a very different story. 

He tried not to be flustered but _damn! Did the idiot take too much pink again?_

Ink swayed over to their closet and thumbed through their clothes. “Heh…” 

“What?” 

“Mind if I pick your outfit, dear?” 

“Tch,” Error tried to will his ecto away, but his magic was already awakened and ready to go. Sighing internally, he glared at his husband, “Why bother picking? I wear the same shit every day.” 

“I just _love_ your red turtleneck so much.” Ink paused on one and pulled it from the hanger. “Ohhh this one is so soft!” 

Error narrowed his sockets, hiding his smile as he pulled off his rumpled clothes and tossed them in the hamper. “You’re planning on something intimate for our picnic aren’t you. Something where you can steal my clothes again.” 

“Maybe?” 

“Absolutely incorrigible, gimme that,” Error snatched the soft turtleneck from Ink and pulled it on. He missed the hungry look in Ink’s eyes at his mostly nude form, and by the time he looked back up, a pair of pants and a scarf were tossed in his face. Laughing lowly, Error complied and put the clothes on. “Is our date a slipper date or a shoe date?” 

“Shoes! I’m taking you to an AU, but you have to cover your eyes. It’s a surprise. Oh, actually!” Ink walked over to Error and took his scarf from his hands. He wrapped it around Error’s poor-seeing sockets, tying it just behind his head. 

_“It’ll be a fun little game, lover. I can tease you however I want, and any time you beg me, I’ll let you stew in that delicious anticipation. Mmm, I wonder how long you’ll last?”_

Ink’s hand trailed down to Error’s and the former destroyer gripped it like a lifeline. _He’s out, he’s fine._ Ink guided Error through a portal, and took off the blindfold. “Tada~!” 

Snowdin. 

“…you seriously took me to Classic’s place? Isn’t this place technically not an AU?”  
Ink shrugged carelessly and walked with him further into some trees across the bridge from the town. The stores’ lights were all off, suggesting their version of nighttime. 

“Ink, I thought you said this was breakfast.” 

“It is! For us.” Ink stopped when they reached a blanket with a picnic basket already set. “Well, for them too. It’s the earlier time in the morning! They should be waking up in another hour or two.” Ink turned his devious grin to the former destroyer. “I wouldn’t mind having _you_ for breakfast instead-” 

“No! We’re not doing it in this freezing cold!” 

“Awww, you’re still shy!” 

Error scowled fiercely and stormed over to the basket. “What did you even bring?!” 

Ink followed, happily still holding his hand. “Everything chocolate for my sweet.” He opened the basket with his 

Error shot him a narrowed glance. “You usually try to get me to eat healthier than _chocolate_ for breakfast.” 

“Well, maybe we deserve a break?” Ink got settled next to the basket and offered him a double-chocolate chip bagel. When Error continued to hesitate, Ink’s smile softened, “I won’t tell Geno?” 

“Tch…” a soft smile graced the destroyer’s face as he sat close to Ink and accepted the bagel. “Thanks.” 

The two of them leaned against each other and started their breakfast picnic. It began quiet and comfortable, with Error adding chocolate spread to his bagel and nibbling it, and Ink tearing pieces from a chocolate and blueberry muffin. 

Error watched him eat the muffin until it was gone before he set his half-eaten bagel down. “Squid, are you going to talk to me about what happened yesterday?” 

A shrug, “It’s in the _past_ , isn’t it…?” He smiled at him and reached into the basket. He offered a bottle of water to the former destroyer, who took it after a few moments. Ink peered curiously at him, “Why? What’s on your mind?” 

“You were kind of distant yesterday,” he took a swig of the water, wiping his mouth off on his sleeve. “But not just yesterday. You’ve been distant with us for a week, at least. And today, you’re suddenly…” Error laughed a little. “Well, you seem like you’re suddenly back to normal. So, you figured out what was bothering you?” 

“Yeah…” A smile, “Thanks for being there.” 

“Hey don’t start getting weepy on me, squid,” he took another swig of water and smirked at him. “So, was this the whole date? Just to hang out here and eat food?” 

“Basically,” he smirked back, “Sorry, I would’ve brought something warmer for us to eat, but I figured I would be enough.” 

Error snorted, water shooting out his nasal cavity. He started coughing, much to Ink’s delight, for the bastard was wheezing with laughter. 

After he got himself under control, Error grumbled under his breath, “How did I fall for an idiot like you?” 

Ink’s grin seemed to tighten slightly. He slid a hand around Error’s shoulders, cupping the former destroyer’s neck. “Yes, I wonder that too…” 

Error froze, jerking himself away as he felt a crash starting to set in. His vision went blurry, but cleared thankfully after a moment or two. 

“Error?” 

“Don’t touch me there,” the former destroyer hissed. “You sh-should know-” 

Ink tilted his head slightly. “What’s the matter, Ru?” 

Uncertainly, Error backed away from Ink, glaring at him. “What’s my nickname for you.” 

“What? Error, you’re being-?” 

“Dammit, _answer me!_ What’s my nickname for you?!” 

“You have a lot of-” 

“You _know_ which one I mean, if you’re _really_ Ink.” 

The artist looked surprised and worried. “Ru, come on, you know my memory isn’t that good-” 

Error ripped strings from his eyes, standing up and stepping back more. “You’re not Ink.” 

“Yes I am!” Ink stood, frowning at him. “Come on, you’re scaring me!” 

“No I’m not. You would’ve twitched towards that vial. You haven’t touched your sash this whole time. And you didn’t bring Broomy with you.” 

“I thought you’d get jealous of it again!” 

Strings wrapped around the artist tightly. Error snarled. “You’re not Ink. Who are you?!” 

The panic and flashing eye lights suddenly stilled from his sockets. “You have the cutest smile when you sleep, _**lover.”**_

Error stilled. _No… no no no… no he’s… he’s out…_ “What did you do…? What did you do to him…?” 

“You’ve got me in your strings, lover. You’re _hurting_ me...!" the weak sob from his voice almost made him pause. 

“You... YOU AREN’T INK!” Error snarled, tightening his grip on the strings. “STOP WEARING HIS FORM, DAMMIT, AND _TELL ME WHAT YOU’VE DONE WITH HIM!!”_

‘Ink’ dragged his tongue across his teeth, sneering down at Error. “Oh, I’ve _really_ missed that spark in you, but I gotta say… you seem a little slower than usual. You’ve lost your edge.” 

_Stop it stop it stop it stop it…!_ Error pulled his strings taut, expecting them to tear through bone and fabric- 

Goop sloshed between the strings. It looked as dark as Ink’s ink, but the viscosity… 

When he reformed, he still wore Ink’s form. “I’m absolutely _hurt_ that you would attempt to kill me! Your own husband!” 

“You’re not my husband. You’re not Ink-” 

‘Ink’ was in his face instantly, red targets in his sockets and grin wide, “I am though. At least for now.” He uppercut the former destroyer and severed the strings. “Why don’t you prove that _you_ are Error, huh?” 

Error stumbled back, growling lowly. He looked around everywhere, no longer seeing ‘Ink’. As a precaution, he shot his strings out everywhere and roared out, “I’ve nothing to prove because there’s only one asshole idiotic enough to impersonate me.” 

“You wouldn’t _rip this world apart_ just to find me, would you, Ruru~?” 

_Yes. I would._ Error felt around everywhere, but wherever the imposter’s voice was coming from couldn’t be felt by his strings. 

“Stop!” somebody was shouting desperately from the bridge. Error turned and ran to it, tossing his strings out. 

_Ohhh he was itching to tear into this bastard._

The Ink imposter was in the middle of a bridge, holding one of the shopkeepers over the edge. One glance towards Error, and he dropped them. 

Their fading scream sent other monsters from Snowdin running over. 

Error roared, throwing yet more strings at the imposter, not particularly caring if he got any bystanders along the way. He ripped them taut, feeling the explosions of the townspeoples’ SOULs into dust, but still missing the imposter, who was laughing and running into town. “Come on, Error baby~! Surely you haven’t softened _that_ much?” 

“I’ll show you how much I’ve _softened_ , asshole!”

\---

By the time Ink got to the world, it was too late. Bits and pieces were ripped apart and the life of the few survivors left was being drained by the world to try and sustain it. Ink was shaking, a pain in his chest at yet another world that’s fallen.

“It’s been a long time,” Dream gently reminded. 

“This is definitely Error’s work, but… but why…?!” Ink gripped his sash, glaring through tears at the pieces. “Something’s not right… Error wouldn’t-” 

“Wouldn’t he?” Dream kept his voice soft. Hesitant. He looked over to Ink, worry clear in his sockets. “The best thing we can do is reset Aftertale, and hope nothing’s changed too much.” 

“Dream. He _wouldn’t._ This is… he wouldn’t. I… I-I need to talk to him.” 

Dream nodded. He squeezed Ink’s shoulder in support. “I’ll do what I can here. You try to get his side of the story, and we’ll meet up later, okay?” 

“Yeah… thanks Dream…” 

Ink brandished Broomy, still gripping his sash in the other hand. _What the fuck, Error…? Why did you do this…?!_


	12. The SOUL, p1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which communication is key but Error and Ink are **really** bad at it :D

_Earlier that morning…_

“Mornin’ bruh!” Spright grinned up at the god. 

“Good morning, Spright,” Reaper’s voice was hoarse from sleep, though his smile back was kind. PJ and Goth were sitting next to Spright as the survivor played tic-tac-toe with the both of them. 

“I think Res-bruh already left for work, and Error and Inky brah went out for a picnic.” 

Nodding, the god walked into the kitchen towards Geno and kissed him good morning. In return, Geno gave him his cup of coffee and a wide grin. “I offered Ink a picnic basket, but he said he’d already had it set up, he just needed to wake Error up. Isn’t that sweet?” 

“Unusually spontaneous of him, but sounds fun,” Reaper grinned back at Geno and sipped his coffee in thought, glancing over to Spright. “Maybe whatever Ink’s funk was is over?” 

“Maybe?” 

“He seemed like he was feeling better!” Geno added. He dished up their plates and Reaper helped bring them to the table. 

Spright thanked them both and started cutting the pieces smaller for the kids. “It’s like Inky brah had a purpose today, but… it’s odd, ain’t he usually… spacey? Like he always got somethin’ else on his mind? He didn’t seem so spacey dis mornin’.” 

The three adults exchanged glances over the kids’ heads. Their good mood turned to unease. _Was… was Ink actually okay?_

“…we can ask him when he gets home, right?” Geno smiled tentatively. “It’s probably not a good idea to interrupt their picnic since it might be a little _more_ than…” 

Reaper grinned more confidently than he felt. “Yeah, let’s just wait for them to come home-” 

The front door slammed open, and Ink stormed in, targets in his eyes. “Where is Error?” 

_Well, that was fast…_

Geno stood up, instantly making his way over. “Ink! What happened?!” 

“Is _Error_ home?!” 

“No! I thought he was on a picnic with you?” Geno reached up to take Ink’s face in his hands, but the artist stepped around him, whipping his head around to find his first husband. 

“Dincha surprise him with one this morning?” Spright questioned. 

“What? A pic- _no!_ I was with Dream and Core _all night_ until we felt a world being destroyed! What do you mean I was on a picnic with Error?” 

“…did you forget…?” Reaper asked tentatively. It wasn’t outside the realm of possibilities, but… for Ink to be so angry… PJ and Goth were staring wide-eyed and slack-jawed at the artist. 

“Forget…?” Ink’s sockets narrowed, and his eye lights changed to question marks. He was almost _certain_ he didn’t… He checked his scarf, but nowhere on it said anything about a picnic. There was the really old “I love you” from Error, and “ ~~pink and blue~~ ”, and his notes from his meeting, but nothing about a picnic with Error. Frowning, Ink looked to his other husbands and shook his head. 

They exchanged glances again, and Spright frowned. “Why don’t I, uh…” 

Reaper nodded to Geno. “Spright’n I’ll help the kids finish breakfast. Why don’t you and Ink…?” 

Geno nodded, looking at Ink with concern. Ink frowned back, hand reaching up to fiddle with his vials, specifically the red, pink and blue ones, before following Geno upstairs to Ink’s and Error’s room. Geno shut the door and turned to face Ink. “What happened?” Out of all of the husbands, Geno was probably the most perceptive one, though the Ink from this morning was far different from the Ink in front of him. He was worried. He knew the artist could change emotions at the the sip of a vial, but this was just ridiculous.

Dream’s voice echoed in Ink’s mind faintly: _“The best thing we can do is reset Aftertale, and hope nothing’s changed too much.”_

_I can’t just tell Geno that Error went postal on his home…_ Ink’s sockets narrowed, “Error took apart an AU, and I was going to ask him why.” 

Thankfully, the glitch didn’t ask which one. _At least, yet._ “Ask him? It looked like you were ready to tear him limb-from-limb from the way you burst in!” 

Ink fidgeted. His fingers continued thumping softly across each of his vials, hesitating between red and blue. “Something isn’t right… he wouldn’t… I know Error! He wouldn’t…” 

_Unless he’s as skilled a liar as I am…? Unless I was underestimating him this whole time? Unless this was **their** plan all along?_ The thumb had paused on the blue one. Ink tried to dislodge that thought with a shake of his head. He looked to Geno again, dropping his hands to his sides and curling them into fists. “You said I was the one that took him on a picnic?” 

“Yeah, I offered help, but you said you got it… Ink?” Geno reached for his hands, grasping them tightly and staring him in his sockets. “What’s going on?” 

“I… I don’t know… I didn’t-” 

Distantly, they heard the front door slam open again. The two went to the bedroom door and opened it to find blue strings shooting everywhere, and the kids shouting with delight. “Swings!” PJ was screaming while Goth was yelling, “Slings!!” 

The instant the strings found and wrapped around Ink, there was a roar of rage, and Ink was dragged out his room, down the stairs, and out the front door in front of Error. 

A very _pissed_ Error. 

“You think you can just walk into _my_ house in _my_ husband’s form, do ya?! And _live?!_ **How dArE YoU gO nEaR mY fAmILy?!”**

“Error! It’s me! Let go!!” Broomy was thankfully still in his grip, but there was no wiggle room should the artist try to swipe the strings apart. 

_**“YoU aRe NoT mY INK!”**_ The strings tightened around Ink, slicing through his clothes and starting to bruise the bones beneath. Ink cried out. 

Geno ran out, “ERROR, STOP! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” 

“Err…!” Ink gasped. His eye lights flashing through symbols, with the red targets cycling through, “D-dammit, _Fringe!”_

Instantly, Ink was dropped from Error’s strings, and the former destroyer was on his knees by him. “Ink?!” the warble in the angry glitch’s voice was gone, replaced by worry. Ink flinched away uncertainly, though Error hadn’t reached to touch him. His haphephobia was acting up so bad, the glitches were visible on his hands. 

Panting and shaking, Ink stared at him. “What do you think you’re doing…?! Why did you destroy that AU?!” 

Error stared back, too many emotions flashing across his face. He was taking in the Ink in front of him. The sash with the lower-than-average yellow and blue paints. The over-sized paintbrush still somehow gripped in the artist’s hand. The cuts in his clothes from Error’s strings, that started to discolor the bones beneath. “I…Ink…” 

Once again, Ink’s free hand was fiddling with the vials, but this time it was over the red one. “Error. Just… why? What happened? Why’d you string up our house? Why’d you destroy-?” 

“Ink.” Error’s fingers were twitching but his gaze was steady on the artist. 

Ink frowned. “Just… cool off at home, okay? I have to go back to-” 

“N-NO, DON’T…!” 

“What? Error!” Ink scolded, “It’s my _job_ to repair AUs, even if it hadn’t been due to _your_ handiwork in a long time! I have to go, now, before that AU is gone for good! I shouldn’t have even come back until the job was done… So go _inside_ , take care of the kids. I dunno, take a fucking _bath_ , and you and I are going to talk about this, okay?” 

“You… you’re not angry that I hurt-?” 

Ink pulled out the red vial, narrowing his sockets slightly on his first husband. _“I’m about to be.”_

Error backed off more, scowling. “Of course. We’ll talk about _my_ destroying an AU, but not _your_ sudden depression? Yeah. Typical Ink.” 

“It’s going to take at least two days, no sleep, from Dream and I _both_ to repair the damage you’ve caused, _and_ to help the world reset,” Ink hissed. “I’ve _told_ you that! That’s why you and I made that pact! _You said you didn’t want to destroy anymore_ and I _trusted_ you!” 

Geno stepped in, “Hang on! Hang on, let’s just… um… Ink, don’t worry about the stuff at home, we’ll take care of it. Error, you really should take a shower, at least.” 

Error growled lowly, but turned away and started marching to their house. Geno watched him go before looking to Ink. “Hey let me at least wrap those wounds?” 

“Don’t worry about them Ge, a little ink’s all I need.” 

Geno frowned at Ink, but watched as he took one of his smaller paintbrushes and swiped some diluted black ink onto the discolored bones. The ink sunk into his bones, and they returned to their normal color. With Geno’s parental glance at the torn clothes, Ink shrugged, “I’ve got spares in the Doodle Sphere.” 

“That… that isn’t my worry Ink…” Geno took Ink’s vial hand in his own, staring into his changing sockets. “You do know we’re going to need to talk… right? All four of us?” 

“Especially after what Error just pulled? Yeah. We’re all gonna need to chat.” Ink smiled at Geno. “Don’t worry. Either he’s got a good reason, or he’s dead to me.” 

A blank stare. _Idiot… that’s not the conversation I meant…_ “That just worries me more.” 

Ink leaned over and kissed Geno’s forehead. “I seriously need to go. I shouldn’t have left Dream to handle the damage for as long as he has.” The artist winked at his husband and vanished into a puddle of ink. 

Geno sighed heavily. _What the hell are they going to do…_

——

Two days is much too long to hold off a vital conversation, but Ink couldn’t leave Dream to reset Aftertale by himself. In all honesty, the artist wasn’t entirely sure the guardian of positivity _could_ reset a world without some help. There was a lot that needed to happen, and that lot was what Ink specialized in. So the two worked for two days straight, without sleep, until Aftertale was reset.

The artist and the guardian had been training their protégé to help them reset worlds, but the smallest Star Sans still had a lot of learning to do, made more complicated by his brother, Stretch. Stretch was so incredibly protective of Blue that taking Blue away from Underswap for days at a time, even with weeks-in-advance notice was basically out of the question. That was the one thing Blue and Stretch always fought about. Until Stretch relented and allowed Blue to change their basement to a multiverse-observation station. It wasn’t entirely fancy, and Blue had to change to whatever world frequency he wanted to watch, but it was _something_. Plus, they had a mini-fridge and a queen-sized bed that fit the three of them fairly easily. 

They crashed at Blue’s place shortly after the world was reset. Dream asked Blue to watch over Aftertale until they woke up again, which the smallest happily did. Surprisingly, the camera was focused on the resident Sans’ and Papyrus’ house, where the Papyrus was racing around Snowdin, calling for his Sans. He was gripping his Sans’ jacket, but couldn’t find him anywhere. 

Blue couldn’t remember if this was how Aftertale’s story was supposed to go… he glanced to the guardian and the artist, the later who was already starting to stir from sleep. _Maybe he should just let them-_

The silence is what turned his attention back to the screens. There was still the typical noises of a morning in Snowdin, but… Blue frowned. _Where was the Papyrus…?_

Not a second later, Ink was grumbling and stretching. Blue looked back to him, uncertainly. “Ink? I think we-” 

“Shit,” Ink sat up quickly, grabbing his scarf. “Dammit, I’m sorry Blue, I need to go.” Ink grabbed his brush, making sure his sash was on before squeezing Blue’s shoulder. “Thank you!” A swipe and a leap, and the artist was gone.

——

Ink walked through his front door-

_Strings._

_Fucking everywhere._

On the couch sat his three husbands. Error looked up first, eyes narrowed at him. “Ink.” 

“Error.” 

“How do we know you’re really Ink?” Error stood, growling. 

Geno frowned at Error. “Error, who else would it be?” 

The former destroyer didn’t have an answer. At least, not one he was willing to share. And that’s when he decided to enact their plan… 

He sniffed, tears starting to fall. 

In this current moment, his tears are meant to be fake. Crocodile tears to make Ink panic enough to start spilling whatever secret worries he’d been keeping. As he sobbed strings and blubbered about Ink not trusting them enough to share his troubles, he’s also laughing on the inside because, though it’s kind of mean, Ink’s _‘what the fuck do I do’_ face was hilarious. Error definitely intended to tease him about it once they have their answers but, for now, he continued his fake-crying.

_**He** wouldn’t have been this flustered… this was definitely Ink._

And then Ink reached out, nervously cooing, “C’mon on, Ru, don’t cry,” and smiling charmingly as he cupped his cheek and teased, “You’re too lovely for tears,” in a way that’s meant to be comforting, but unintentionally has the opposite effect. 

_“C’mon on, lover,”_ is what he hears alongside the words, _“keep crying. You look so lovely in tears.”_

Jerking back, Error’s fake sob caught onto something broken and sharp and _real_ in his throat. His breath stuttered as it forced the sound free. He found himself gasping with his next cry as it’s unwillingly pushed from his mouth. _What…what the fuck…?_

“Ru?” Ink called worriedly, hands hovering in the air as he watched his first with an unsure expression. Undoubtedly, he’s trying to figure out what he said or did wrong and absently thinking of which colors to respond with. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

_“Aw, baby,” a cool appendage cups his cheek, “what’s wrong? Not having fun?”_

_Stop it, stop it, he’s _out, dammit. He’s _out._ Stupid fucking memories like that have no business bothering him— __

__Ink hesitantly stepped forward and he flinched, tears coming faster as he scrambled away. “W-what’s-!” gasping, he kept repeating the word in a stutter. _Fuck, fuck, fuck. He needs to stop. He’s fine, dammit. He’s out so he fine and whatever the fuck happened the other day can’t change that._ But he needs to ask again. _Fuck, he just- he needs to be sure._ “W-what’s your s-special **nIcKNaMe fOr mE?”**_ _

__As Ink watched him in a worried yet confused silence, he absently twitched his fingers to test the various threads he has strung up throughout the house. Nothing out of place. Discreetly, he curls seven fingers. All seven pull tight and he caught sight of a blue thread lifting one of the trails of Ink’s scarf slightly just as the artist replied, “Fringe? Error, what’s going on?”_ _

___It’s still him. Thank fuck, it’s still him_ , and that should relieve him. It _does_ relieve him, but his tears kept falling and they’re not crocodile’s tears any longer._ _

__“Error?” Ink nudged gently. “What’s wrong?”_ _

__Angrily, he swiped a hand across his eyes. This time, it’s his tears rather than all the other times the motion was done to attack. _This isn’t meant to be about **my** problems._ But tears are tears and these will help him get his answer just as easily as his little show. “Y-you won’t share your fucking problems with us!” _hypocrite!__ _

__But Error doesn’t have any problems. Whatever happened the other day? It’s over and done with. His seven precious strings are here; safe and happy. They’re _all_ safe._ _

___He’ll make sure of it._ _ _

__He stared at his first husband, voice still cracking with his sobs, “Why won’t you _talk_ to us, you fucking idiot?! What’s going on through that stupid air-filled skull of yours? What-?”_ _

__"Did something happen...?" Reaper interrupted, staring at the artist’s expression. His body language. Anything that would give him a hint. "Did someone say something to you? You've been playing a lot with your sash since you came in," Reaper noted, "where your paints are." Error glanced to Ink’s hands, having not fully noticed how true Reaper’s statement was until he saw it for himself._ _

__Ink looked down at his hands, then shoved them into his short pockets. "No I'm-" a frustrated growl, and Ink muttered, “I can’t love you.”_ _

__Error paused, tears halting. “Are… are you serious?”_ _

__Ink looked away. He sighed, "You know I can't love you right...? B-but I want to!" He looked quickly up, meeting Error's and Reaper's and Geno’s gazes. "I do! But I..." his eyes dropped to the floor, letting the sentence fade._ _

__Error's expression softened, though frustration still brewed in his SOUL. _This fucking conversation again?_ "Inky, we know you love us."_ _

__"...How can you be sure?" Ink muttered, gaze remaining downcast. "Error," he glanced up at Reaper, "Reaper...I...I want to think that I love you. I **do** love you! ...but that's because I **choose** to, but... it's not enough for me. What if it's not real? What if I...what if I'm just playing you all and I don't even know it?!"_ _

__"...Is this about the talk you had with me?" Geno questioned. Reaper had known about it, but he wasn't sure about all the details of that conversation._ _

__Ink looked surprised for a brief moment. It was so long ago, but Ink had recorded it in one of his journals. One that he reread every single night. "I know it wasn't your intention... you was just curious, but I...." he pulled his hands out his pockets and gripped the sash again. "Even without the paints, it's all I can think about... it's not like there's any way to fix this either..."_ _

__Reaper tilted his head slightly. "....are you sure?"_ _

__"I never really had a reason to check, and Error didn't seem to mind when it was just him and I..."_ _

__"I still don't,” the destroyer grumbled, “but if it's causing you this much distress, then maybe we should try finding something?" Error once again reached for Ink's hands._ _

__This time, Ink let his fingers tangle with Error's who smiled slightly and pulled it further away from his sash. "Is there even a way to fix a soul you don't have?"_ _

__"Fix?" Reaper repeated, "No. Not when there isn't anything there to fix. But..."_ _

__Error glanced at him with a frown, "But?"_ _

__"...what if we got help from someone who **makes** them? Souls, I mean."_ _

__Ink slowly turned to Reaper. "Makes SOULs...? What do, who do you know that can do that...?"_ _

__Reaper chuckled. "Life."_ _


	13. The SOUL, p2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the quad visits Life.

As Geno and Reaper made emergency plans with Spright and Res to take care of the kids, Ink found himself staring at Error. They hadn’t held hands for long, but the former destroyer had a faraway look in his eyes. Every so often, he would twitch his phalanges, and seem to sigh with relief before slowly tensing up again. 

Ink fiddled with his scarf, watching Error. The only chance he had to make a note on the scarf in the past few days was “Ask Ru about AT”. He took a pen out and added some question marks underneath it. Error glanced over, just barely reading the note. Ink caught his gaze and frowned. 

Error looked away first with his jaw clenching shut stubbornly. 

The artist narrowed his sockets, about to press the matter, when Geno and Reaper made their way back downstairs. 

Spright was following them, more than happy to look after the boys. "I getta draw'n chat with da lil dudes? Absolutely!" 

Error managed a slight tilt to his grin, while Ink beamed at him. “Thanks Spry!” 

“Not a problem, Inky-brah! I hope yer visit helps ya!” 

The former destroyer nodded to his brother. “Make sure they behave, or I’ll eat their desserts in front of them.” 

“Error!” Geno and Ink spoke simultaneously. Reaper snickered. 

A shrug, “What?” he glanced between Geno and Ink, frowning, “It works.” 

“Maybe I should use that one, then,” Reaper grinned. He opened the door for his husbands. “The sooner we leave, the sooner we can come back, okay? Call us if you need anything, Spright.” 

“Of course!”

——

Fairly quickly, the four husbands found themselves at Life's door. Ink realized that Error didn’t want to talk about Aftertale. The artist didn’t want to increase whatever distance seemed to be growing between them, so he mumbled, "Isn't it funny that Death's knocking on Life's door, and the three of us are cowering back here?"

Error scoffed, "Cower? I don't cower." 

Geno glanced at him. "Ink's right, we're kinda... hiding...?"

Error turned a nasty look to his brother, "No. **You** two are hiding. I don't cower and I _definitely_ don't hide."

He was the furthest away.

"Tori's not scary, guys." Reaper reassured with an amused grin, "Well, unless you're her ex. Then she's **really** scary.

Ink grabbed Error's hand, his own shaking slightly. "C-c'mon, Error! You said you're not hiding right? Then," he pushed his first husband in front of him, now gripping his shoulders and shrinking behind him, "Y-you should go before me..." 

Geno smiled uncertainly up at Reaper. "...If you say so..." 

Reaper offered his hand to Geno, who took it instantly. The god of Death knocked on Life's door, then reached behind himself and took hold of Error's hand.

There was a muffled, startled gasp that made the uncertain three squish closer together, followed by the sound of footsteps. "Just a moment!" a feminine voice called through the door, "I just need to unlock..." _click, click, click..._ how many locks did she have?! "There!"

The door swung open.

"Hey, Tori," Reaper greeted, "nice to see-"

The door slammed shut. "Go away **Death**! I'm still upset with you for ruining my tomatoes!"

Geno blinked and looked up at Reaper. "Tomatoes?" 

He looked away, "...long story..." 

"It is NOT a long story!" the woman spoke from behind the door. 

"Heh... surely it's not _too-late-to_ tell us?" Ink spoke up from behind Error.

Even the thick wooden door couldn't mask the sound of the goddess' snort. "Sans, I mean **Death**..."

Reaper winced. "Oooh, Tori only calls me that now when she's **really** mad."

"...decided that he was going to fall asleep the last time he visited. Not in the guest room, though. Nor on the lovely rug in front of the fireplace. No. He thought the best place to nap was the _tomato garden_ I've been working on for _three months!"_

"Reaper!" Geno hissed, "You slept on her garden?!"

“I was tired!"

"Sounds like he had a hard _thyme_ finding another place to sleep..." Ink murmured a little stronger. "I'd _relish_ a chance to meet the esteemed Goddess Life, if she'd _lettuce_...?" 

Error glanced behind himself, hissing, "What are you doing....?!"

Hidden from their sight, Life laughed. “My, my. Sans is going to have to _ketchup_ if he wishes to maintain his title of Pun Lord.”

“Tori!” Reaper squawked, “You’re supposed to keep that title to yourself!”

The door opened, presenting the goddess to her guests and allowing them to see the smirk she wore. “And you, my friend, are supposed to keep your hands away from my garden.” Turning her attention to the three she had yet to formally meet, Life smiled, “Hello.”

Resisting the urge to torment his husband, Geno stepped slightly from behind him and looked up at her. "Hello! I'm Geno." He turned to Error and Ink, both of which were still somewhat hiding. "This is Error, and this is Ink." 

Error nodded slightly to the goddess before finding interest in the ground between his shoes. Ink waved, smile slowly growing, "It's _berry_ nice to meet you!"

Giggling, the goddess' smile warmed, "It is nice to meet you all as well. I, as I'm sure you know, am Life, though you may call me Toriel."

"Or Tori~"

A nasty look was thrown Reaper's way. "I have yet to hear an apology from you, **Death**."

"...Sorry Tor..."

Nodding firmly, the goddess turned back to Ink, Error, and Geno and motioned to the open door. "Please come inside. I'd love to assume this a pleasant visit but something tells me there is business to speak of instead."

Geno raised a brow bone at Reaper, smirking slightly at seeing him _cowed_ down so quickly. He smiled cordially to the goddess, "Thank you Mrs. Toriel." 

Error and Ink followed after Reaper and Geno, with Error staying quiet and keeping his gaze low. Ink dropped his hands from the destroyer's shoulders, giving him a curious, worried look, before turning his colorful gaze to Toriel. "Uhm... yeah, you're right..."

"Would any of you care for some water? I have tea as well?" Life question as she led them inside her home to cozy sitting room. 

Geno shook his head. "No thank you." Pausing, he glanced at his brother and husbands. "Actually," smiling sheepishly, he requested, "Is it too much to ask for coffee, tea, and anything sweet you may have?"

"Oh! I have this delightful chocolate tea that's simply," the goddess snorted, " _divine_ with a bit of milk and sugar."

"That will do," Geno said, taking note of the way Error perked up slightly, "thank you, Mrs. Toriel. Would you like help?"

"Oh no! As your hostess, I ask that you sit and relax! I'll be right back!"

The moment she disappeared around the corner, Geno and Ink spun to face Error. "What's wrong, Ruru?" Ink asked, beating Geno to the question.

Error startled, looking between the two. "Wh..." he scowled. "Nothing!" He crossed his arms moodily, looking towards the kitchen. "I'm fine. Just..." his sockets narrowed, "how many of her creations have I destroyed...? I don't..." 

Geno smiled sadly at him. "You've changed, Error." 

Reaper tilted his head towards him. "Res and I were created specifically to bring balance. She continues creating, and my brother and I reap those creations later on. I don't really think she'd hold it against you," he paused, "just don't destroy anything here."

Error glared at him; annoyed. "I'm not going to _destroy_ anything here, you idiot!" he hissed, his hands waving angrily as he emphasized his words. The destroyer froze upon feeling something connect with the back of his palm. "Oh shi-!"

_Crash!_

"...You just broke a vase." Ink informed him.

"Yes, I'm _aware_ of that you Ink-head!" paled and panicking, Error bent down to pick up the pieces. "H-help me, will ya?" 

Ink crouched down and pointed to a piece a little further away. "Don't forget this one." 

Error glared at his grinning husband. "Dammit, stain! That's not the help I meant!" 

Geno exchanged glances at Reaper, his expression saying, _we really agreed to marrying them, huh?_

"Is everything okay in there?" Toriel called. 

"Yes!" Error snapped before paling further, "I...I mean-"

Toriel entered the room with a tray held in her hands. "Hm, what was what? I couldn't quite-oh my."

"Error did it!" Reaper ratted, not wanting to sink lower in the goddess' good graces.

The destroyer shot him a glare. "This is what I get for marrying you, you asshole? **Betrayal**?!"

"Oh, good." Toriel said pleasantly, barely blinking at the exchange between the husbands, "That was a gift from my estranged husband. I've been looking for an excuse to throw it out."

Error paused his clean up, clearing his throat. "Yer, uh, welcome...?" awkwardly, he rose and stepped behind Reaper, choosing to hand-crochet something from his strings instead. 

Geno elbowed Reaper hard in the side, then stepped forward to accept his drink from the goddess. "Do you have a preference for where we should sit?"

The goddess shook her head with a smile. "Anywhere is fine, my friend."

Nodding, everyone took a seat, though nervousness led to the three squeezing onto a single sofa with Reaper.

Chuckling at the lovers' antics, Toriel set the tray she held on the coffee table before them and motioned to everything it held. "What's that?" Ink questioned, pointing to a container of sorts.

"Oh!" Delighted, Toriel lifted the lid. A sweet scent filled the air, "It's rather warm today so I thought some ice cream would do us all some good! These are popsicles I made. Cinnamon-butterscotch, if you don't mind the flavor."

To his credit, and to Reaper's disappointment, Geno didn't even flinch. "Th-that's nice." Okay, _almost_ didn't flinch. "Mrs. Toriel, uhm.... we were wondering if you could help Ink with something. Reaps told us of some of your work with SOULs and we..."

Ink exchanged glances with Geno, before meeting the goddess' gaze. "We were wondering if you could make me a soul, somehow? I'm sure there's some sort of price-" 

Expression softening, Toriel shook her head, though she was quick to speak when the four began looking disheartened. "There's no price, Protector," she said, smiling at Ink's obvious surprise at the title, "Oh, I know who you are. You're quite the champion to my creations." At Error's downcast look, her smile grew, "I know you as well, Destroyer. You keep my creations on their toes and, well," she chuckled, "you keep me from becoming lazy, I'll admit. There's quite the need for my work to continue whenever you're around, though I don't exactly approve of the reasons for that need."

"But making a soul..." Geno began, only to trail off uncertainly.

"That's a big thing to ask, Tori." Reaper continued, voice muffled slightly due to the popsicle he had in his mouth, "Even for you that's no small task. Are you sure about the price?"

"I don't need a payment for doing a favor for a friend, Sans. Or, well, friends, as I hope we'll become after today."

Geno's expression brightened slightly, but Ink spoke up first, hesitantly, "I... I could feel **real** emotions...?" the cautious hope in his voice made Error reach for his hand. "I could... _you could help me feel real emotions...??"_

Toriel nodded slowly. "I can't promise anything quickly. There's quite a lot of considerations, too, what with your apparent soullessness." She glanced down at his paints. "I've heard the rumors, but is it true? You drink paints for emotions?" 

Ink nodded, gripping Error's hand and the sash. "Each one has different emotions infused into them, and sometimes they're not exactly the same, but yeah..." he looked down to the sash, "...yeah this is how I've been _feeling_. Heh."

Eyes kind, Toriel reached out. "May I...?"

Hesitantly, Ink nodded and slipped the sash off so the goddess could take it. "I, um, I need...will you have to keep it?" He blurted nervously.

Thankfully, Toriel shook her head and handed it back quickly enough. "I simply wanted to see the paints up close. It's good to get an understanding of the replacement you've been using and I was curious on how they'd feel." A little uncertainly, she motioned to the paint, "I don't suppose you have a vial you don't use often? I hate to ask since they **are** how you feel, but having one on hand may aid me in the creation of your soul. "

"How?" Reaper asked with a curious look.

"Well, there has to be **something** special within the paint to be able to mimic the emotions of a soul. Something clearly compatible with Ink. I'm used to working from scratch, but maybe I won't have to with a vial for help. Oh, but that's only if you have one you **truly** don't mind parting with. I can make due without it if it'll cause you any problems."

"Wou- would the one vial, rather, could it potentially affect the soul itself...? Each of these vials are two or three concentrated emotions and..." Ink fiddled with the vials. "... I'm worried about giving you one of the _bad ones..."_ he looked up suddenly. "Should I stay here? A-and, well, that way you could have each of them as a sample...?" 

Error tilted his head, "Inky, wouldn't Dream-?" 

"He'd understand." His fingers tightened their hold on Error's, but his gaze stayed on Toriel. "Please…?” 

Thoughtful, Toriel slowly nodded. "I don't see why you couldn't stay here. I have a guest room available. Oh," she glanced between the three remaining skeletons apologetically, "I'm afraid the bed in it only fits two at most..."

Reaper shrugged. "I have work."

"And I have the house to watch." Geno said. "Do you want to stay with Ink, Error?"

Error looked between Geno and Ink. "Paper-?" 

"You know Spright and I'll take care of the kids." 

"The others-?" 

Ink turned and grinned mischievously, "We could just tell them we went on a second honeymoon!" _But then I can ask you about Aftertale._

Error's blush was slow to appear, but it was so bright when it did. He looked between Ink and Toriel before finding interest in his shoes, "Th-that would be nice..." 

"Excellent!" The goddess exclaimed, "Geno? Sans? Will you two like to stay for dinner or will you be going?"

Geno glanced to Reaper who was eating his fourth popsicle. Sighing, he smiled to the goddess, "I appreciate the offer, but I think we should head back now." 

Error paused as the other two stood. "Uh... we'll call ya if we need anything..." 

"I know~!" Geno smiled brightly at Error, "Try not to break anything else, bro?" 

“It was an _accident!"_ he sputtered indignantly. 

"Does the bed count?" Ink asked with a suggestive smile.

Error spluttered, "I changed my mind, damnit! I'm going home."

"Ruruuuuuu!"

Toriel laughed good-heartedly. "If you break the bed, just make sure you fix it, okay?" 

Ink turned star-lights to Toriel, "I've _goat_ myself a wingwoman?!" which made her giggle harder. 

"We're **already married** , you _imbecile!"_ Error hid his face in his scarf. 

Reaper chuckled, watching his other two husbands fondly. Toriel caught his smitten gaze, smiling knowingly. "I'll take care of them, Sans." 

The god and Geno seemed to relax. "Thanks, Tor," Reaper smiled back.


	14. The SOUL, p3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Error and Ink spend time at Life's.

After Geno and Reaper left, Life gave them a tour of her house, including the guest room. Sure enough, the bed fit the both of them quite comfortably, and if Error’s hapephobia acted up, he could always back off and build a string nest. 

They didn’t really do much except fall asleep almost as soon as their heads hit the pillows. 

The first two or three days at Life's place, Error found every excuse to avoid talking about the picnic incident and his mini panic attack. Error hadn't needed to confirm it was Ink for... gosh, _years?_ Ink couldn't remember, but the special nicknames they gave each other were two words that Ink had made certain to carve into his mind, if only to ease his husband’s own. Throughout this time, Life took samples of each of Ink’s paints and studied them in private. 

“I want to make sure it’s exactly right,” she had explained. She only took samples so Ink could continue to use them in the mean time. 

Nearing the end of a week, Ink still hadn’t gotten a single word out of Error about Aftertale, and Life was asking if Ink would be okay as a blank slate for a day or two while she finished the final touches of his SOUL. "I really do apologize. My creations usually form their bodies around their SOULs and I'm trying to take extra precautions with you and yours," she explained. 

Hesitantly handing over his sash, Ink nodded, "Y-yeah... yeah of course..."

"Will he get his paints back?" Error asked, a nervous grip on Ink's hand. 

"Yes of course! He shouldn't need them with his own SOUL but I'd have even less of a need for them." 

The statement threw Ink more than he was expected. That was true, wasn't it? He _wouldn't_ need his vials once he had a SOUL. The thought was...

Huh, he didn't really know _what_ it was. 

Absently, his fingers twitched towards his chest for the sash he _just_ gave away. Catching the motion, he cracked a smile and lowered his arm back to his side. Even if he was still wearing it, he wasn't sure what mix he'd want to make. Yellow, he was sure, but...

At his side, Error watched Ink out of the corner of his socket with an understanding expression. Ink was smiling, but he looked a little lost behind the grin. _Has to be weird being told you won't need the **one** thing you've **always** needed before…_

"I promise to be gentle with them, Protector," Life shot them a kind smile. She bowed her head slightly and left with his sash. 

Ink stared after her, looking more and more lost, though his eye lights continued to cycle through symbols and colors with every blink. Error squeezed his hand slightly, "Are you going to be okay?" 

"I... I don't know..." slowly, Ink returned his gaze. His eye lights were starting to waver.

For a few moments, Error narrowed his sockets at his husband, trying to figure out if Ink's uncertainty was coming from himself or the lack of vials. The bastard was difficult to read sometimes and going emotionless for however long it took Life to return his sash wouldn't make prying answers from his expressions any easier.

Deciding it didn't matter much at the moment, he shrugged and motioned to the sofa with his head. "Guess there isn't much to do but relax. Wanna watch a movie?" Privately, he thought back to the schedule he had memorized. Today would be a bit of a boring 'episode', but watching Undernovela would still be amusing.

Ink continued to stare at him. "You really won't talk to me about what happened?" 

"In which movie?" Error was already tugging them along. Ink went willingly, but didn't bother blinking. 

"Error, you know what I mean." 

"....no...?" The former destroyer sat down, opening his arms to cuddle Ink in his lap. 

Carefully, Ink settled himself there, but before getting fully comfortable he met Error's gaze again. "You've been avoiding it for a while now." Ink couldn't really remember how long it's been. Honestly, he just remembered the sense of urgency, and the two bolded notes on his scarf: _"Error and AT"_ and _"Error real crying...??"_. 

"Then maybe you should just let it go?" Error tried and failed to keep the sharpness from his voice. Sharpness that Ink seemed to latch onto, since the artist narrowed his sockets.

Feeling like a chastised child when met with that stare, Error sighed and looked away, though he was quick to return his eyes to Ink's when doing so felt like a defeat. Their gazes connected once more, Ink frowned and a raised a brow. "Error."

"Ink."

"Ru," Ink tried instead, voice softening and eyes warming while he still had the chance to express such a gentle emotion. Remnants from his vials would only remain for so long. 

A little frustrated at just how well the soft utterance of his more-used nickname worked, Error sighed and slumped forward to rest his chin on top of Ink's head so he wouldn't have to look at the conniving bastard. "...What do you want to know?" Maybe he could stall and Ink would stop caring about finding out.

Ink tried to be sneaky with peeking at his scarf. _Which one was more important...?_ "Aftertale...?" he murmured. "Why'd you...?" 

_....Aftertale...? What is he talking-? Oh... oh gods..... oh fuck.... fuck fuck **fuck...**_ Error stayed silent, though panic started brewing in his mind. He rubbed Ink's back, staring holes into the wall. "Why'd I do what?" he decided. 

Ink's jaw clenched and unclenched a few times. _What... what was it that he did...? It must have been important if I wrote it down..._ He narrowed his eyes. "You know what you did."

Error was starting to realize that no. No, he _didn't_ know what he did. Not the full extend, at least.

At the time, he was well aware that Ink was going to bitch at him for tearing through an AU like he was slipping back into his old habits. Truthfully, he hadn't cared. Face to face with an imposter who _dared_ to wear the face of his husband and who... who....

_Ink on his lap, feeling him up beneath his shirt while pressing a kiss to his chin as they bickered before their so-called date._

_Leaning against one another as they ate._

_Flirting, laughing, just being **together.**_

But none of that had been Ink. No, it had been a bastard fucking with him. A bastard who was in his house where his husbands and brothers and fucking _children_ slept.

_Fuck, I changed in front of him_. The thought sent disgust and fear shivering down his spine. 

All he wanted to do at the time was get that asshole in his strings and tie them up so tightly they wouldn't be able to leak out. Ink's ire and a destruction of a random world meant _nothing_ to him at the time. Not when he was doing it to keep his family safe.

But he _didn't know_ that was _Aftertale_. Fuck, he thought it was just Classic's place. Not...not...

_Geno is going to kill me._ Or worse: he was going to smile and _forgive_ him while looking like he wanted to _cry_.

Ink tried to look up at Error, even going so far as to touch his cheek gently and rub a circle with his thumb on Error's cheekbone. "Ru...?" 

_Was that worry...? Did he forget...? **Is thIs sTiLl InK?!** ...yeah... yeah Ink wouldn't sound so..._ Error looked to Ink, seeing the wavering eye lights. It could've been his imagination, but each blink seemed to bleach the color from Ink's eyes. 

_...would it be easier for that bastard to take Ink's form if Ink had a SOUL...?_ Error returned Ink's gesture, feeling his soul melt slightly when Ink leaned into his hand. _He... looks like he lost his train of thought and he's trying to get it back..._ Error thought distantly. He smiled slightly, "C'mon, Inky, let's watch some Undernovela. Life said you'll get your sash back in a day."

Ink frowned, but the expression seemed more instinctual than purposeful. There was an argument on the tip of his tongue, Error was sure there was, but a few blinks later and there was no trace of Ink wanting to push for information left on his face. "Okay."

_Oh thank fuck._ That gave Error time to sort this shit out in his head.

Ink handed Error the remote, wriggling so he could watch the TV too. Error put the show on and the both of them got comfortable and started watching. A few minutes into the episode, Ink murmured, "I... I coulda sworn we were talking about something..." 

"Yeah, if we wanted to watch Undernovela or a movie." 

"....are you sure...? It... I thought it was more important than that...?" Ink closed his sockets, still trying to remember. He froze, "Where's my sash?!" 

Error rubbed Ink's arm, "Life has it, hon. Don't worry." 

“Worry...? M-my paints," Ink started to squirm, but Error kept a firm hold on him. "R-ru, my paints, I can't- you have to-" 

"Hey," Error made Ink look at him, "Do you trust me?" 

Ink stared back at Error, fiddling with the ring Error gave him so long ago. Slowly, he nodded. Error nodded back. "Okay. Just breathe with me, okay? We're going to watch this show together then go to sleep, and tomorrow, you're going to feel better, okay?" 

"Feel...? I... Ru, my paints-!" 

_That desperate tone..._ though it was fading to a more indifferent, matter-of-fact one, it still made Error's SOUL clench. He held Ink closer, murmuring, "Just trust me, love."

Ink stared at him, conflicted. "Okay." Then, "Ru, my-!"

Leaning forward, Error cut him off with a short yet sweet kiss. "It's okay."

"Do that again..." Ink murmured, successfully distracted. 

Chuckling, Error did. "Idiot," he muttered into the kiss, letting himself enjoy what little warmth and affection there was in the responding press against his mouth.

By the time they broke apart, Ink's eye lights were entirely white.

Error suppressed a shudder. The only color and shape eye lights he hated most from Ink were his red targets and the white circles. Ink's paint-induced fury was known across the multiverse as one of the scariest things, but the complete lack of emotions? He was unpredictable. In Error's mind, Ink was scarier like _this_. Was Ink more likely to kill him or kiss him? Nobody knew, not even Ink himself. 

"Ink?" 

"..." Ink blinked slowly. There was something nagging at the back of his mind. Something missing. But there didn't seem to be any urgency to remember. He stared at the skeleton he was sitting on. _Why were they entangled? Did it matter?_

_There was something special about this skeleton..._ Ink couldn't remember what it was. Didn't feel like trying to figure it out. He glanced to the TV where Undernovela still played. _Huh..._ Ink leaned against Error's chest and watched the show. 

Error held him closer, resting his chin on the smaller's skull. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying hard to keep the wave of tears inside. Ink didn't need that. It'll be over by tomorrow right? _Right?_

Besides, there was one good thing to come out of seeing Ink like this:

_Now I **definitely** know he's my Ink._

———

The rest of the night was basically this. Error holding Ink while they watched Undernovela. At one point, Life offered them some food and drink, which Error thankfully accepted. Ink watched blankly. As if he were pretending to be interested, but couldn't fully bring himself to show it. When the food and drink came, he stared at it. _What's the point of eating?_

Error was able to convince him to take a few bites, but that was all the artist would accept. Error looked towards Life almost helplessly. Life's smile was understanding, "I'm almost done, Error. Just give me a few more hours, okay...?" 

Ink murmured. "This show is fun. We'll be fine." 

_His voice... it was so devoid of anything... no joy, no excitement, no boredom. It was stated like it was a fact._

"We've watched it for a while. We will be fine to continue," Ink reasoned when no one else spoke up. 

"U-uh... yes of course...!" Life glanced uncertainly between the two. 

Error half shrugged. _There is no way I'm going to doze off and leave my emotionless Ink by himself. Who knows what my idiot would get into...?_ "Thanks, Tor. We'll just be here!" 

"Of course," she smiled again and disappeared further in her house. 

Once Error was settled, Ink crawled into his lap again and watched the show silently.

It wasn't all that rare for Error to have difficulties paying attention to his original tasks whenever Ink was on his lap, but that was usually for reasons filthier than the one he had now. 

Although Ink _seemed_ immersed, it was easy to tell that he was just existing in the moment. There was no real joy or amusement whenever a scene that would normally make him cackle himself into a fit of snorts popped up; there was no real _investment_. Ink was just there with a show he understood was meant to provide him with amusement, so he was letting it try.

_I wonder if you're only in my arms right now because some part of you knows it's where you'd choose to sit any other time..._

"Haha..." Ink murmured, blank and empty and somehow more lifeless than every one of Error's dolls. The joke wasn't even funny. He was just copying the laugh track.

He loved Ink, he did, but he hoped the morning would come soon.

It wasn't until the sun was starting to rise that Life walked back in. "I'm ready, but... it might be best if it's just Ink and I alone first." 

Error jumped, looking over to the Goddess of Life. He'd been absently rubbing his hand up and down Ink's arm, and the other hadn't bothered making him stop or returning the gesture or anything. At Error's movement, Ink looked over too, then up at Life. _I'm Ink... I think...?_ Ink blinked, returning his attention to Error, when the former destroyer stood with Ink in his arms. "Where are we going?" Ink mumbled. 

_Apathetic._

"We're going to follow Life to a different room and I'll wait just outside, okay?" 

Ink watched Error's expression shifting from startled to anxious. _Why is he anxious?_ "Sure." _Life seemed uncomfortable too._ She keeps messing with her bracelets. Ink watched the both of them. "Are you going to hurt me?" 

"N-no, dear. We want to help you." Life smiled kindly to Ink. "It shouldn't hurt at all. But it might feel warm for you." 

_Warm? Like Error? Error's body is warm._ "...okay."

Content enough, he relaxed further into Error's arms and let himself be carried away by the taller skeleton. There were various pictures and potted plants all around the house, but his notice of them was distant. Just a brief, _Oh, there's more things than the television,_ that was out of his head mere seconds after being thought.

"Just in here, on the bed."

The crisp white sheets where untouched. Cold from disuse. 

Error's lap was more comfortable, he thought. A seat was just a seat though, so what did it matter?

"I'll be just out the door, Inky." Error reassured. Huh, he swore he was Ink, not Inky. 

"Okay."

When Error left, he felt nothing. When the door clicked shut behind him and he couldn't even be seen, Inky still felt nothing. He didn’t even know how much time had passed. Minutes? Years? Who cares? 

"I'll try to be gentle with this, but it shouldn't hurt much either way." Life said, hands carefully cupped around something he couldn't see. There was a glow though, Inky noticed. He didn't really care though.

But that changed soon enough. Life stepped forward and warmth shot through him the moment something passed through his sternum from her hands. Suddenly, he cared.

Suddenly, he _felt._

_But his sash was hanging on the back of the door._

It was a rush of emotions, reminiscent of when paint was poured on him for the first time, except it was _every single emotion._ It was like taking an entire rainbow and shoving it into Ink, letting each color bleed into the next, until... one seemed to stand out the most. 

_A soft orange-yellow._ Surprise. But the good kind. It reminded him a little of Dream, or the blush that spread unexpectedly across Error's face. 

Ink felt tears form in his sockets and drip down onto the slowly-warming sheets. The color in him shifted to a bright yellow joy. The joy he would've needed to take at least a gulp of yellow paint to achieve was instantly there. The tears came faster. 

From the corner of his eye, he saw and felt several colors. Colors that... that weren't his. Though a gentle pink seemed to dominate, there was a flash of white too. "Ink? Are you in pain?" the woman asked. Ink blinked, tilting his head to see the speaker. 

_Life... and the colors were hers._

"Why... why are you scared...? What's that pink?" 

Life blinked several times. The white slowly dimmed to a soft pulsing mirage. _Confusion._ "Pink? What do you mean?" 

Ink squinted at her, seeing what looked like two layers of her. He was seeing the goddess herself, in her beautiful flowing dress and the creases of worry in her brow, but the layer just below, he equally felt and saw her confusion, her worry, her... whatever the pink was. She doesn't love him, right? That doesn't make sense? 

Very _very_ distantly, Ink recalled Geno trying to explain brotherly vs husbandly vs parental love. Maybe this is what this pink is...? 

Ink glanced to the door, seeing his sash, and how **concentrated** the emotions were- _holy shit he can feel his sash_. Ink's sockets widened, his symbols turning to exclamation points as he looked back to the goddess. "I... I can feel..."

Life smiled widely. "So it worked? Oh, I'm so relieved!"

"I...I know." _He could see it._

At his admission, the goddess’s smile fell in confusion. "Pardon?"

Stunned by the revelation that he was feeling, Ink distracted informed her that, "I can see the color around you. I can feel it, too." Giddy, he laughed. "I can _feel!"_

Understanding blossomed across Life's face, the expression she wore clearly portraying the emotion but the color he could both see and feel all but jumping out at him before it could register. A little startled at just how _intense_ the sudden color was, he closed his sockets like a child might flinch away from something new and confusing and frightening. But he could still feel her surprise and the quickly rising alarm. 

"Oh my, well," Life chuckled weakly, _"me_ , I suppose. I...I'm afraid I made a mistake, my friend."

Panic shot through him like a bullet. It was almost just as painful as one too with just how _fast_ it replaced his elation. With how dependent he was on his vials--oh, wow, and he _meant_ that _"was"_ \--Ink had reached a point where snatching one up and draining a bit of paint was a reflex. He was a little slower when he had to stop and think about the _best_ combination that would be suited for a moment, but he was still masterful enough where tossing back paint took a handful of seconds to accomplish. 

This was... different. So, so _different._ One moment he was happy and the next he was panicking because _what did Life **mean** by she > **made a mistake**?!_ He wanted to ask, but he was still reeling from the sudden emotional jump.

Thankfully, Life went on to explain, "Considering your inability to feel I was most concerned in ensuring that the SOUL I was crafting would, without a doubt, allow you to produce emotion without the use of your vials. I was afraid of making a mistake, but that fear seems to have led me into making an entirely different one. Oh, but that- I may be jumping to conclusions here. Tell me, can you," she hesitated, "can you _truly_ feel what I'm feeling, Ink?"

Slowly, and without opening his eyes, he nodded. "I... I think so..." he shivered. "I... w-well... it's like I can see and feel what you're feeling... it's..." even with his sockets shut, he could see the cloud of colors that made up Life. He sat up, bringing the sheet with him. "You're really p-panicking and it's starting to freak me out... th..." he was starting to breathe harder. His voice broke slightly, "There's a lot of white...!" 

"O-okay...! Okay, let's both just..." she took a breath and slowly released it. "Let's both just breathe, okay? Ink?" 

Ink opened his sockets and focused on the first layer of Life, and on her expression. Distantly, he was still processing her colors, but he was trying to ignore it for now. Together, they worked on breathing, and, mercifully, the white faded to little more than a loose nagging string on both of them. "Is that better?" She asked gently. A neon orange was trying to hide under a calmer blue. _Caution. Worry. Calm. Soothing._

The artist nodded. "You're trying to be careful with what I feel..." he smiled, feeling a that caring pink he saw in her start to bubble up in himself. 

But there was something nagging for his attention. He glanced around the room, faintly sensing the aura beyond the door. A sharp, anxious orange-red color. 

"Before you go out to him," a spark of white had Ink whipping his head back around to the goddess, Just as quickly, she tried to calm down, "You should try to let yourself get used to this. It's probably hard to process your own new emotions, let alone mine and one of your husbands. It might be best if the two of you stay for a little longer, before you go back home..." 

_Back to where there's seven other bundles of emotions instead of just two..._

Yellow, pink, and blue.

His small trial of the mixture had left him with a lot of questions with no answers and now the mix seemed to be rearing it's ugly, confusing head again. _Naturally_ , this time.

The pink and yellow came entirely from the thought of his family (well, he was assuming that, at least), but the blue... _Oh_ , at a sudden pang in his chest, he pressed a hand over his sternum and smiled slightly, _I'm sad I won't be able to see them right away, aren't I?_

Heh, funny that he had to _question that_. Maybe it had been a little too optimistic, but Ink had hoped the feelings would come with a natural understanding of what every little complex color meant. Turns out he was wrong. Very, very wrong.

Meeting Life's eyes, he nodded with a hesitant smile. A pretty blue much lighter than his sadness bubbled up within him. _He trusted her_ , so if Life said it was best to stay, then... "Okay."

She smiled back, a soft turquoise relief soothing her colors further. "Allow me to talk to Error for a moment, okay? We'll be just outside. Holler if you need us, okay?" 

Ink nodded, watching her leave the room. He sat there, watching the two exchange words. He saw more than felt their reactions. Soft blues and turquoises and pinks emanated from Life while sharp oranges and reds and whites spiked from Error. 

There was a spark of white from Life just as Error slammed the door open and approached Ink. 

A lightning bolt of white and yellow shot through Ink. "Error!" 

Error grabbed his hands, "Are you okay?!" 

Ink froze. The contact intensified Error's colors so much they almost blocked out Life's and Ink's own. Ink stuttered something about _let go_ , but couldn't hear himself. 

Almost as quickly, Error let Ink go, staring at him with sockets wide. "Ink...?! Your eye lights..." 

Ink blinked several times, finally noticing that his eye lights had been shifting through too many colors and shapes when Error was touching him. He looked to Error, shivering and blinking. A blush slowly appeared on Error's face. "I-Idiot, don't scare me like that..." 

Slowly, Ink smiled at him. "Your pink is so cute~!" 

Error's blush brightened and he turned away. "Idiot..." he repeated. Ink took great joy in watching Error's yellow blossom and mingle with the pink. Error glanced over, noticing Ink's stare, and he scowled. "Got something on my face or something?!" But Ink wasn't blind anymore. 

_"It's cute how deeply in love he is with you!"_

Dream's words echoed faintly in Ink's mind, and his smile grew softer. _It really is... gods, that's got to be my favorite color..._

Life smiled to herself, watching Ink's eye lights shifting between different shaped hearts, though worry nagged at her still. "Hon..." Error and Ink turned their gazes to her, though the latter was a little slower at it. She smiled hesitantly, "I... I think I accidentally made you into an Empath, Ink..."

Ink's sockets snapped shut, saving his eyesight from the blinding surge of **red** that erupted from his husband. "E...Error..." he choked, attempting to blindly turn away but still unable to truly escape from the burning emotion. _And to think he used to say that Dream's eyelights were the brightest thing in the multiverse._ "E...Er... Ru, p-please..."

At the pained, pleading tone in the artist's voice, Error flinched and stepped away. "Shit, I- am I _hurting_ you?!"

"Y-you...you're j-just too _bright_ , Hon." He admitted, not liking the colors creeping into Error's anger. He didn't want him to feel _sad_ , he just, "I wasn't expecting it."

Despite Ink's attempts at trying to reassure him, Error's anger was still almost completely replaced by a horrified sadness. Error hated hurting the people he loved. "I...I didn't-" _mean to_ , he wanted to say. Instead, he crossed his arms and shifted in place, trying not to look at Life as he asked, "How did you fuck up? You're _Life!_ Creating SOULS is your _job."_

"I make mistakes, Destroyer," Life said in a scolding tone, "and I made one today, it seems. As I told Ink, I was too focused on trying to ensure he would feel that I overdid my work on that portion of the creation of his SOUL. I wanted him to be able to feel and _he is_. Just... more than I meant for him to. If you'd like, I could attempt the creation of another-"

"N-no!" Ink cut in, hesitantly opening a single socket. All the colors were starting to give him a headache, but he... _he liked it_. That pretty, pretty pink... He wanted to see Reaper's colors. Geno's, too. Oh, and their kids! "I...I'll l-learn to handle it."

Error looked to him, distress clear in his colors, his face, his voice, "Ink if it's hurting you-" 

"No, it's... it's just really new," Ink reassured with a smile. His eye lights had settled on shifting between hearts and stars. "There's..." Ink started to reach for Error but hesitated. He glanced between Life and Error uncertainly. _If touch increased the colors, would he ever be able to touch his family...?_

"Ink, are you sure...? You just said it was new, and when I held your hand-" 

Ink set his jaw and reached for Error. "I'm going to learn how this works before we get back." 

Life started to step in, "Maybe it would be best if one or both of you tried to shield your emotions? It should help lessen the impact it has on Ink." At Error's sharp glance, Life narrowed her eyes, "Just because true Empaths are rare, doesn't mean I don't know a thing or two about them. It wasn't my intent, but if the Protector insists on keeping it, I don't see the harm in letting him. Ink may find that his abilities go beyond sensing what others feel. He'll have to work very hard on mastering his current skill and any others he may be burdened with." 

Error glanced away, scowling, "Burdened with...?" 

Ink watched the exchange, seeing the irritation spiking in Error again. Ink offered his hand to his husband, a smile on his face, “It’ll be okay, Error!” 

Realistically, it was perfectly normal and understandable that his husband tried to hide things from him. For whatever reasons he had, Error was a prickly person. Ink _knew_ there was a softer side to him simply because he saw it so often, but it was strange to, well, see it.

As he glanced at Ink's hand, Error scowled more. _Angry_ , the expression said, but the colors all around him told Ink a different story. _Worried, scared, uncertain..._

"Ru," he urged with a smile, "it'll be fine. You'll be here to help me, after all."

_Pink._

Pink like Geno's favorite blanket, like the inside of PJ's sockets, and pink like the paint Goth once spilled all over himself and Reaper. 

Error took his hand.

This time, Ink was prepared for the rush of emotions from him. He let them flow through, choosing to not latch onto any of them. After a few seconds, Ink's smile brightened. "See? I'm okay! _We_ are okay!" 

The pink brightened, and Error slowly looked to Ink. The worry and uncertainty and fear still lingered, but they faded into the background, replaced by a cautious happiness and such a pure adoration and love. Worry was quick to come back, though, with Error reaching hesitantly to wipe his tears, "Why're you crying, dumbass...?" 

Ink blinked, touching his cheeks. He laughed, "I don't know! I'm just so happy! But... I thought tears were sad?" 

"No," Life's voice was gentle as her smile, "We cry for many reasons. Pain, sadness, happiness. It isn't just for one reason. Um.. I think I'll leave you two to yourselves for a bit and make some tea." 

"Thank you," Ink murmured, though his focus was still on Error. 

Life nodded, shutting the door quietly behind herself. 

Error's voice dropped, "Seriously... Inky... are you....?" 

"I have pink for you...!" Ink sniffed, the yellows and pinks inside himself blooming more, making his chest- his _SOUL_ warm. He cried and hugged Error tightly. "I feel the pink _without the paints...!"_

"...Of course you do." Error murmured gently, soft and pink and so, so warm. Overwhelmed by his own happiness, Ink pressed his face into Error's chest and sobbed; smiling and laughing as he did so yet oblivious to the odd shade hidden beneath Error's love. The arms around him tightened. "Guess having a SOUL doesn't make you any less of a dumbass."

"E-Error!" he attempted to scold through his joyful blubbering. 

Chin settling on top of his skull, Error rubbed at his back soothingly and shot back a fond "Idiot" even as he gazed at the wall behind with tearful sockets of his own, thankful that Ink either didn't notice or wasn't about to bring up his relief. He knew Ink loved him. He did! But...

_"Do I love you?" His heart pounded as he slowly nodded to the question, his eyes averted nervously as he did so. A hand came up and cupped his cheek, guiding his skull up so that their eyes could meet. At the sight of the white smile and unreadable eye, he trembled. "Oh, Error...”_

_Please, please, please.... He silently begged, Please, make this all worth it._

_"...what a stupid question. You know such weak emotions are beneath me."_

_His heart plummeted._

"I love you," Ink cried into his chest, sounding happy and awed and truthful, "Ruru, I _love_ you. I love you!"

Swallowing to rid himself of whatever had his throat so tight, he quietly murmured, "I love you too, Inky."

Their combined joy was enough to hide his sad, sad blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update will be on Wednesday, my dudes~! - 🎃 🐺


	15. Split Screen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we get a split-view of Error/Ink and Reaper/Geno

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The breaks in this chapter are a back-and-forth between Error/Ink and Reaper/Geno! They are happening at about the same time, and the scenes will combine near the end of the chapter. There won't be many of these types of chapters, but we'll add this authors' note when they crop up!
> 
>  **WARNING:** Finally, some of the darker tags will be in effect for this chapter! Triggering scenes including touching-turned-non-con and some psychological torment.

Several times in the following days, Error would catch Ink staring at him with a star-struck expression. And whenever that happened, Error seemed to trip on whatever he was doing. Be it crocheting, cooking, cleaning, he would stumble and have to look away. Just to glance back, and see Ink's expression brightening and the hearts practically pulsing in his eyes. 

Error couldn't remember if he'd ever had a blush stay this long. 

But something was still nagging at Ink. On his yet-to-be washed scarf were the two notes that still hadn't been addressed. Ink waited until they were cuddled in Life's guest bedroom before murmuring, "Error? If I asked you something, would you answer me?"

—

Geno grinned up at Reaper. "Error said they should be coming back soon!"

Reaper's shoulders dipped slightly, and relief softened his grin. "Good. PJ was starting to look a little disheartened." He leaned down and kissed Geno. "I gotta go to work, love. I'll be back in time for dinner, okay?" 

Geno pulled him back down, kissing him again. Reaper wrapped his arms around the smaller's frame. Geno pulled away, a bright flush on his face. The god chuckled, "You're going to make me late again, Gen." 

"No! Go! I'll be here when you come back~!" the smaller sent as flirty a smirk as he could. 

_Success._

Reaper stuttered and turned away, just too slow to hide the blue blush across his face. "I-I'll be home later, Gen~!"

—

Extremely comfortable from where he was draped over Ink, Error hummed to show he was listening and lazily lifted his head in order to look up at Ink. Briefly, he frowned. _Is...is he a little taller...?_

"Ru?" Ink pressed.

Pushing the thought away for not, Error yawned a bit and nodded. "Yeah, sure. What did you want to ask?" Quite a bit of his time these last few days was spent on answering Ink's questions about the more complex emotions he kept stumbling into but had never been able to recreate with his paints. "If it's another sex question, I'll kill you."

"Aw, but your colors are so _nice_ when you're hor-"

"No. No more. We're not talking about sex in fucking Life's house. I don't want to end up fooling around only to end up carrying like six kids because literal Life was close by."

 _"You_ don't want to be carrying, eh?"

“Ink."

Chuckling, Ink smiled and nuzzled their cheeks together lovingly. "I'm just teasing. You'll really answer my question though?"

"Yes, idiot, I will."

"What happened in Aftertale?"

—

Grinning, Geno blew a kiss at his back and returned his attention to tidying up the living room. Spright spoiled the children by taking them for dinner yesterday. It ran a little long so they were still fast asleep despite normally being up. He had breakfast ready to go for Reaper and his brothers who all had work or plans leading them out of the house, but he was thinking of whipping up something special for a late breakfast that the kids could enjoy once awake.

The door clicked closed but he paid it no mind, content with the goodbye he and his first already shared.

"Maybe we can try that pancake art thing PJ was talking about....?"

—

**Fuck.** Error grumbled and shoved his face into a pillow. "What was the sex question."

Ink saw and felt it. The sudden change that most others could guess was there. It really was like flipping a switch. Error's content colors faded with a darker red and blue blooming in its place. 

"Error." At Ink's stern tone, he glanced over again. "You said you would answer my question." 

_Dammit..._ sighing, he turned onto his side and faced Ink more fully. He picked up one of the artist's hands, fiddling with his fingers. _Where do I even begin..._ He sighed again and murmured, "I didn't realize it was Aftertale-" 

"You said you wouldn't destroy any more AUs, though." 

Error tried to fight the anger that spiked out, but Ink still winced from it. "Do you remember our picnic?" 

"...no? I was told we went on one, but..." 

"Yeah... that's because it wasn't _you_ who was with me."

—

Geno bustled around the kitchen, getting things set up. He had all the ingredients and tools he needed, even the food coloring to make it that much fancier. _Do I need a stencil?_ Geno frowned at the pan, wondering how this was supposed to work. He wasn't as artistic as Ink or PJ... but maybe some simple shapes and patterns would be fun until he got the hang of it? Geno smiled to himself and started to craft some circular pancakes with chevrons.

—

Ink frowned, his fingers curling around Error's to still his fiddling and bring his full attention onto his face. "I don't understand. I thought I just...."

"Forgot?"

"Yeah."

"Fuck, I wish." Laughing hoarsely, Error tugged his hand free and pressed it against Ink's sternum. Instead of pushing him away like the artist thought he planned to, he slid his hand up in a long caress that had Ink shivering. He traced a path up, up, and up until he had the protector's cheek cradled in his palm. "Do I feel real?"

"Yes." Ink breathed, leaning into the warmth of Error's palm on his cheek. 

Error guided him up a bit — _fuck, Ink was a little taller_ — and pressed their mouths together in a kiss. "Does that feel real, too?"

Ink chased him when he pulled away and murmured a confirming "yes" into his mouth. When they parted, both were panting a bit and the artist seemed a little dazed. "Are you trying to distract me?"

Instead of answering, Error pushed him back and crawled onto his lap. "And my weight?" he pressed their bodies together, "My _body?_ Do those feel real? Do they feel _like me?"_

"Yes," Ink groaned, trying to push his hips up into Error's clothed pelvis, "you feel real, baby."

Error paused with their grins brushing together. "I thought _you_ felt real too when you sat on my lap insisting we go on a date. You felt like you when you kissed my chin and when you held my hand while leading me to Aftertale _and_ while we cuddled during our date. You felt real. Like the real Ink, but 'you' weren't _you_ , Ink. _And I didn't know._ There was an imposter in our _house_ , Inky. Our children sleep a room away and someone who looked like you and acted like you was just a wall apart from them. Geno and Reaper were on the other wall. _Someone got into our house --our **room** \--_ and I **changed** in front of them and flirted with them until they-" he shook his head, "Until I realized it wasn't you. And I got _angry."_

—

Frowning a bit at the misshapen heart he made, Geno huffed and tossed it onto the plate before trying again. Maybe he should just stick with circles and let the kids decorate them with toppings...?

"Why is this so hard?" he whined, relieved Reaper was being responsible enough for once to actually remain at work. His husband had the worst timing when it came to ditching and _always_ caught him acting childish or doing something embarrassing. "Fucking Reaper." he grumbled, smiling fondly at the slowly cooking pancake heart in front of him. "Heh, just had to fall in love with an asshole, didn't I?"

—

It took a moment for the words to sink in. He blinked once. Twice. Paling on the third blink. He stared up at Error. "A... an imposter...?" Ink narrowed his sockets, feeling his horror and fear and- his SOUL lurched. "Ru... Error.... if- o-our home-" he grabbed Error's shoulders as if to steady himself, even though he was laying down. His hands were shaking. "Y... you were trying to catch them..." he tensed, fingers starting to dig into Error's shoulder. "W-wait... Blue and Dream- where's-"

"Ink? Honey, you need to take some breaths, okay?" Error's voice was low and worried. He sat back, pulling the artist into his arms. "Breathe with me, calm down, okay?"

—

Geno considered Ink's near constant flirting and Error's general prickliness. "I guess I married a bunch of assholes..." but his smile stayed fond. He shook his head. "I wonder who the biggest idiot amongst us is..."

Feet started pounding down the stairs, and soon enough, PJ and Goth were at Geno's legs, squealing about breakfast. One of PJ's eye lights was a bright star while Geno reached up to be held by Geno to watch the cooking. 

Geno laughed. "Okay hang on! How about you two grab some chairs and drag them over here?"

—

How...how was he supposed to _breathe?_ He was-! His-!

"C'mon, Rorschach, you idiot," Error whispered into his ear, "you need to breath. Just match me, okay? _In,"_ he breathed in deeply, _"out,"_ he exhaled. 

"E...Er...or..." he was trying. _He was trying!_ But there was a pressure in his chest and his...his _panic_ was so strong. Stars, Ink never...he never drank enough paint to make this much. To feel this much. He...he....

When his breathing didn't even and his vision began to blacken, Ink started to go limp and Error took notice. Cursing, the other skeleton looked around desperately for something to help. When he found nothing, he cursed again and moved his hands to cup Ink's skull. _"I had a dirty dream about you fucking Dream once!"_ he all but shouted, trying to drown the panic with surprise.

—

Squealing in excitement, the children quickly ran to the table where they struggled to dragged their chairs over.

Chuckling, Geno shot his kids a wink just before magic encased the chairs and lifted them out of the children's hands. Well, child's hand, apparently. PJ was clinging to his chair and shrieking happily as he was given a short free ride.

"No reaching for the stove, okay?" He didn't want any accidents.

—

Ink jolted, staring at him with a blush spreading across his face. "Y-y-y-you wh-wh...?!"

Error rested his forehead on Ink's, "Dammit, don't get lost in your emotions..." 

"W-wait, Error-" 

"Listen, the imposter is more important right now, isn't it?" Error couldn't stop the embarrassing warmth he felt growing in his core, and he knew Ink felt it. 

Ink smirked at him, though it faded quickly. "What are we going to do...?" he whispered. "Do you know who it is...?"

—

"Okay!" both kids echoed. Spright walked down the stairs then, softly grinning at the happy little family. He pulled his phone out to take pictures for Reaper.

For several batches of pancakes, the kids made suggestions and requests, and Geno did his best to meet them. He even let the kids have a handful of chocolate chips apiece but told them, "Don't let Dunkle Reaper or Error know, okay?" 

With their mouths full, they nodded eagerly.

—

Error's flustered pinks and heated reds brightened into a cold, icy blue. _Fear._

"...Yeah," he whispered when the silence grew stifling, "I'm positive I know who it is."

—

Once two plates were stacked full and the batter was gone, Geno shut off the stove and told the children to hold on tight before directing the chairs back to the kitchen table. "Do you want any?" he asked Spright.

Shaking his head with a grin, the colorful skeleton patted his shirt over where his stomach would have been. "Still full from da three course meal yah made earlier."

"It wasn't that much." he grumbled. Taking both plates in hand, he made his way to the table, though he paused when he noticed his brother toeing on his shoes. "Heading out now?"

"Yep~" popping the 'p', Spright pocketed his phone and offered two enthusiastic waves to the kids. "I'll be back before din-din, broski. See yah! And you too, lil bruhs!"

"Bye uncle!" The children called out.

—

_He hated it... he hated that color so much, especially in Error._ Ink did his best to shove the sudden black inside himself down. He cupped Error's face so they both held each other gingerly. He looked into his first husband's sockets. "Fringe," he murmured softly. "Hey..."

Error returned the gaze, though his was distant and sad and scared. "I wish he would've forgotten. I knew he'd never forgive me. Stars, I doubt that asshole even knows what forgiveness is... but... I desperately wished he would forget." Error rubbed soft circles over the stain on Ink's cheek. His _birthmark._ "He's a possessive bastard..." 

"Ru... honey, who is it...?"

—

Spright grinned, swinging by to high five the kiddos. Geno ran after him, "Spright! Your lunch! Just in case!"

"Ah man, thanks bro!" Spright's grin softened at being thought of long enough to be made a lunch. He knew Geno did it all the time, but it still made Spright's day when Geno remembered. Soon enough, he was off on his own adventure. 

Geno shut the door and turned back to the kids. "Alright, boys! Let's eat up and shower-" 

"I wanna nap!" Goth whined. 

"Alright! Sure, we can nap, then shower!" That definitely brightened the boys' day.

—

Error shuddered. Still pressed against his cheek, tracing his mark, his hand began to tremble as if the iciness of the cold, fearful blue around him was making him shiver. "N..." he swallowed, "Nightmare, Inky. It's Nightmare."

—

They had to make a short detour to the bathroom to clean small hands and bright, sticky grins, but, soon enough, the children were tucked back into their beds where they happily threw themselves into the embrace of their food comas.

Smiling at the sound of soft, sleepy snores, Geno pressed a kiss to each of their skulls and quietly shut the door before making his way downstairs. He still had dishes to clean.

As he started on the pan he used for cooking; however, he found himself thinking about the children. How cute and happy they were but just how big they were getting every day...

"...I kind of want another one." He admitted to the sponge in his hand. "Maybe a girl this time, though I wouldn't mind having another boy...."

—

Ink was slow to move. He covered the hand on his cheek with his own and leaned forward, resting his forehead on Error's grin. "...I didn't know he could shapeshift..." _Or maybe I just forgot..._

"Not a lot of people do..." Error whispered hoarsely. 

Too many memories were flashing in his mind. Memories he didn't want to get into. He shut his eyes against them, willing them to go away. 

Ink wrapped his arms around Error and held him closer. "You're out..." 

_I'm out I'm out I'm okay I'm okay..._

"You're with me," Ink continued softly, "You're with Rorschach, okay...?" 

Error returned the embrace, hiding his face in Ink's shoulder. He took a gasping breath and trembled. 

_Weak... pathetic..._

__

—

"Well, if you insist," a voice purred by his head as arms wrapped around his waist.

Screaming, Geno whirled around and started beating at the intruder with a sponge. Until his eye light focused. _"Reaper?!_ What the...? I thought you were at work?!"

"But I missed you~!" he whined. 

Geno's expression softened though he tried to turn it into a scowl. _Endearing little shit._

—

Error laughed. Wet from the tears he was trying to hide, the sound was bitter and broken and tore at Ink's heart. "I thought he gave up once I left. We...we have a deal and- fuck, I thought that would be enough to get him to back off. I'm such a fucking idiot. Like I said, he's...he's always been possessive." Quieter, in a whisper meant for himself, he admits, "I should have taken him more seriously when promised to drag me back."

Ink stiffened, "When he promised to _what?"_

—

"You're going to get yelled at again for ditching." He scolded, leaning into the warm embrace and briefly tucking his head under Reaper's skull as he enjoyed the arms around him. Stars, how did he manage to miss Reaper _this much_ in such a short amount of time. "Idiot."

He felt Reaper's chuckle before he heard it. "Always so mean." Voice dipping into a sensual purr, he slid a hand down and tapped the back of Geno's shorts in a playful spank. "I should punish you for the disrespect you're showing me."

Oh, that was a game they haven't played in awhile. Geno grinned, "We'll wake the kids, dumbass."

—

Error froze too, but it was too late. The truth was out. Well, some of it. He found that he couldn't meet Ink's gaze. "Yeah..." is all he said.

Anxiety swarmed within Ink. A disgusting, muddied yet too-bright color Ink'd never needed before. It swirled and ripped at him. A tornado, tearing apart his thoughts. His grip tightened. "R-Ru... Ru what was the deal...?" 

Error shook his head. "It doesn't matter..."

—

"Not if you don't make a sound," Reaper leaned forward, kissing Geno. Eagerly, Geno opened up and their tongues began a...

_Huh...?_

Reaper seemed to be taking his time exploring Geno's kiss. It made the smaller blush. It was like they were kissing for the first time. Reaper lifted him up. Geno wrapped his legs around his husband, gripping his shoulders to keep him upright. Reaper sat down with Geno in his lap and they broke apart. 

Geno murmured, "Wait... hang on something's off..." 

Reaper tilted his head. "Off? But all the lights are on," he winked. 

"Psh! I'm talking about my chest, you dork!" Geno made himself comfortable in Reaper's lap and took his shirt off, staring at the healed scar. "What the..." 

Reaper loomed closer, long fingers prodding into the center of his sternum, where the wound had been the deepest. "...does it hurt?"

—

It didn't-? "Ru, honey, how can you say that?"

"Because it _doesn't."_ A little desperate to convince Ink, Error tried for a smile and soothing tone of voice. He failed both attempts. "Look, he- it was nothing bad, okay? I just...I needed an out Ink. Nightmare doesn't let go of his things without a fight, especially not when they-"

Ink's arms around him tightened further. "You're not a _thing_ , Ru!"

He didn't mean to. He really, really didn't mean to.

Error laughed. Loud and broken and full of disbelief. _Maybe not now, but he **was**. Once._

—

Shuddering at the touch, Geno bit back what would have been an embarrassing sound and slowly shook his head. "No, it...it doesn't."

"Not even when I do this?" With his words the only warning, Reaper scraped his fingertip along the entire length of the scar. Instead of flinching back, Geno gasped and whined, his eye light briefly hazing. "Oh," Reaper purred, raising his hips and grinding into the slowly brightening glow in Geno's shorts, "I guess that's a no, huh?"

"Y-you assho-!" A mouth swallowed his insult and the following moan. _Idiot, this isn't the time_ , he wanted to argue since something was clearly up with his body. "R-Reaps!" he ended up mewling instead when the god broke away in favor of sucking a mark into his neck. "C-careful with my scarf!"

Balling it up in one hand, Reaper tossed it away and dove back in to drown out his protest.

—

Ink stared wide-eyed at him. "R....ru...?"

Slowly, the sound faded from his chest. He shut his sockets and let out a long sigh. 

"Error..." Ink whispered hoarsely. 

"I'm fine." He murmured. 

_No you're not..._

—

"Geno?"

Both of them froze. Geno looked towards his voice. T-towards... 

"R-Reaps...?"

—

He couldn't remember ever seeing Error like this. Well, that wasn't saying a lot. Ink was known for having a terrible memory. But his husband looked so...so...

"Anymore questions?" Error murmured, eyes downcast.

_Broken._

—

That was... that...

Trembling, Geno shifted in an instinctive attempt to distance himself from what could very well be someone very dangerous. In doing so; however, he was reminded of their position and stilled when familiar hands clamped down on his hips, thus forcing him to press down further on the-

His eye light vanished.

"Awww, trying to get away, _Ge-no~?"_ The skeleton wearing his husband's face questioned with a wide, unsettling smirk. His grip tightened around him and claws bit into the summoned flesh of his sides. When he whimpered and the prominent excitement of the other throbbed in response, a wave of nausea rushed through Geno. "We haven't gotten to play our little game yet."

—

Ink stared at him, SOUL hurting in a way he didn't think he was aware of. "Let's go home…?"

Error slowly nodded. "Yeah…" he didn't move. Ink had to be the one to slowly untangle himself from Error before Error slid off the bed. 

"Everything will work out, okay, Ru? I'm not going to stand for you to get hurt again." 

He smiled slightly at the seriousness in his husband's voice, but didn't say anything. It really wasn't up to Ink, but... well, he appreciated the sentiment.

—

Reaper's response was instant: a scythe forming. "Let my Geno go, you-"

Shaking, Geno trapped both the fake's SOUL and his own SOUL in magic and ripped them apart. Fake Reaper went crashing sideways off the couch while Geno went flying to Real Reaper's arms. His real husband kept eyes on his target, but quickly shed his cloak for Geno to hide in. Reaper stepped forward, snarling- 

The fake laughed. He stood up, a wicked gleam in his sockets much too cruel for Reaper's face. "Maybe next time then, huh Gen~?" He purred, "Say goodnight to our children for me." 

Magic crackled in the air around him, and he was gone. 

Reaper let out a furious hiss. He turned to Geno, kneeling by him, "Geno? Baby, talk to me, did he hurt you?" 

Geno's eye light was still out. His expression was empty, though his entire body shook beneath Reaper's cloak. "R-Reaps…" he choked on the growing nausea.

—

The two of them shuffled out the room, remembering to pick up their phones from their chargers and Ink's sash. For a second, he stared at it, finding it weird that he was able to sense the vials themselves. Error squeezed his hand, looking at him, "Are you sure you're ready? We could stay here a bit longer..."

Ink looked to him- down? They stared at each other, and a shit-eating grin crossed Ink's face, complemented by two bright yellow stars. "Well well, look who's the shorty now?" 

Error scowled. "Won't happen if I cut you off by your knees." 

"You won't do that, Ruru~!" Ink leaned down slightly and nuzzled his face, brightening more at Error's flustered yellows and pinks. His blues from whatever memories he had were still there, but Ink was glad that wasn't the only color there. 

"Yeah? Fuckin' try me, squid."

Ink captured Error's other hand and intertwined their fingers. He started rocking back and forth, as if to start a dance. "Being taller makes me feel like I really can protect you~!" At Error's flustered stuttering, he continued, "Yeah! I'll be an even better protector as an empath!" 

Error stared up at him. _What is this. An inch? **Maybe** two?? It isn't even much! ...he's probably just **barely** taller than Reaper now..._ He smiled slightly. _The idiot looks so happy though..._ "As if you need more things to keep you from home, dumbass. Come on, let's go back." 

Life wished them a safe trip at the door. "If you need anything, you know where I am." Error ignored her, in favor of opening a portal, though Ink turned to her with a happy grin and thanked her. The husbands exchanged glances and stepped through... 

Ink hesitated at the door. Already, he could tell there were at least four emotional bundles inside, two upstairs and two downstairs. "S....something's wrong..." Error stepped in front of him, slamming the door open with strings ready. 

Reaper and Geno glanced up, with the former stepping in front of Geno and brandishing the scythe again. He growled, "Prove you're Error, bastard." 

"Oh yeah?! Prove _you_ are Reaper!" 

Geno whispered, "This is the real Reaper...." 

Ink stepped in from around Error, hands shaking as he stared between Reaper's flaring rage and Geno's shimmering fear. "W...what happened...?!"

Reaper snapped at Ink, "Back up. Both of you." Ink raised his hand, staring at Reaper with wide sockets and alarmed symbols.

“Reaps-“

A high, angry screech left the god’s mouth. With a burst of magic, his wings erupted from his back and spread to keep Geno from their view. “I said _**back up!”**_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _In which the writers are nerds when it comes to Ink’s special name~_ (Also, the next update will be Saturday!)


	16. Big Oof

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which no one can catch a fucking break XD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNING:** Triggering scenes including non-con touching in a flashback, psychological/emotional torment, and mention of rape.

A high, angry screech left the god’s mouth. With a burst of magic, his wings erupted from his back and spread to keep Geno from their view. “I said _**back up!”**_

Immediately, Ink put distance between them. Stars, there was so much red around Reaper but Ink was starting to notice the icy blue-white fear from Geno was bleeding into Reaper’s own red. The god was scared too, wasn’t he?

“Reaps...” He soothed, reaching out to grab Error’s hand when his first jolted forward threateningly. “Ask us a question, hon. We’ll answer.”

Error leaned towards Ink, his hands had strings slowly pulling strings from his eyes, "If **he** has been watching us for a long time, **he** will know the answers to the questions too. We know we're us and they know they're them, but the four of us aren't sure if we're all us."

Ink fidgeted, glancing over his shoulder at Error. “Can you make that any more confusing?!”

“What I’m saying is none of us know if the imposter is really gone. Reaper’s the most likely suspect since he’s-”

“He’s not here,” Ink murmured. “That really is Reaper. I don’t think the imposter would be scared of us…”

Reaper’s scythe slowly lowered, though the red and white were still there. A soft, cautious orange bled into the white. “How do we know you’re really Error and Ink,” he hissed.

Geno peered around Reaper, legs shaking. Softly, he asked, “Which one of you fathered PJ?”

An embarrassed blush spread across Error’s face, too fast for him to try and hide it. He turned away anyway, scowling fiercely. “I’m starting to regret a lot of things.” Geno reached out and grabbed Reaper’s arm, eye glancing to Ink. Error stepped forward, stopping immediately when Reaper mirrored the movement with his scythe. “Listen, you dumbasses. We’ve been at Life’s place since you were there. Wanna call her and double check?”

“Yeah? What’s her favorite pie-”

“Snail,” the reply was instant and filled with disgust from both Ink and Error.

He stared at them for a moment longer, before slowly letting his scythe vanish. He didn’t let his wings drop quite yet though.

Error narrowed his sockets, “We’ve got a lot to catch up on, it seems… do you want us to start or should you?”

“How…” Geno cleared his voice, “How did it go…?” 

Impatience and annoyance flashed across Error’s face and colors. “Ink can not only feel his own emotions, but can feel _everyones’_. She called him an Empath. It’s stronger with touch.”

Ink pouted at him. “I wanted to tell them!”

“That’s how you knew I was scared…” Reaper’s gaze was flickering between the two. 

“All of us are,” Ink murmured, starting to shiver. “That white… i-it’s…” his gaze was going distant and his breathing started to quicken. “L-like-” 

Error stepped between them, ignoring Reaper’s low warning warble for the moment to take Ink’s face, “Focus on me, idiot. Breathe. In and out. Don’t focus on that color.” 

Ink stared at him. He followed Error’s breaths, slowly calming down. His wavering eye lights returned to a steady shape. Pink hearts. Blinking again and he nodded. “Okay Ru… I’m okay.” He smiled- 

Geno and Reaper were there, wrapping their arms around their two husbands. Geno burst into tears and Reaper drew his wings around them too. Ink froze, feeling the sudden rush of fading red, fading white, and growing pinks and relieved blues and joyful yellows. Ink choked on a sob and sunk into the warm embrace of his three husbands.

He wanted to stay wrapped up in the colors all around him forever. It was like being embraced by the sky itself with how the colors around him mixed and blended with their close proximity; mimicking the pretty powdered hues of a sunrise. The strongest emotions felt so sweet and warm, but it’s the lingering bits of fear that eventually pushed him to untangle himself from the many limbs of their embrace. 

“Reaps, Ge?” he didn’t have to do more than whisper to gain their attention. The moment he spoke, they both lifted their gazes to catch his eyes. _Heh, guess he’s tallest now, somehow_ , though he’ll celebrate that later. They had more important matters to discuss. “What happened?”

As much as a space case as he can be—and, yeah, Ink is self-aware enough to admit that—he isn’t an idiot. Being greeted with animosity and a demand to prove their identities painted a clear enough picture that his earlier discussion with Error only served to make all the more obvious. The imposter— _Nightmare_ —was here. 

Reaper’s next words only confirmed his thoughts. “There was another me.”  


_“Here?”_ Ink stressed, just to be sure. Red slowly started to simmer in Error so he stepped back into the group embrace to settle the anger of his first the best he can with a comforting arm around the Destroyer’s waist. The moment he was close again, Reaper’s wings drew the four of them even closer together, like he was trying to hide them all from prying eyes and curious ears.

The smallest of them all, Geno was nearly drowning in their limbs but didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. Instead, he pressed further into them all and answered in a shaking voice when all Reaper ends up managing in response is a warbling noise.

“I thought it was Reaper…” He said, and while there’s no yes and no being spoken, his statement answered Ink’s question all the same. Geno almost never leaves the house without one of them dragging him away. “You’re always skipping,” Geno spoke to the god, “so I thought- I…it made sense. And you-! H-he? _They_ looked like you and flirted like you and I-! O-oh gods, I...I was going t-to…”

Whatever Geno can’t manage to say has him so shaken that his icy fear brightened straight into a pure, unnerving white. The artist wanted to throw himself into the red of his other two husbands to escape it. At the very least, he wanted to soothe the color into something less blank and fearful and into a hue better suited for his smallest husband. But Ink is a protector. _The_ Protector. As much as he wanted to coddle the ones he loves, he _needed_ whatever answers Geno may have to his questions in order to go about this issue in the right way.

So, a little regretful, he went to push Geno into speaking more.

Error beat him to it with a question that unintentionally sent his brother into a hysterical fit of tears.

“W-what the _fuck_ is on your neck?!”

Geno flinched, a hand instantly moving to touch the still darkening hickey. His shaking worsened and more tears came. Reaper shot Error a look, and understanding dawned just as quickly as red and black slashed through his colors. Ink shuddered at the burning hatred mixing with the icy fear and panic. He found himself unintentionally mimicking Geno when the smaller covered his mouth with one hand, whispering something about not feeling good anymore. 

Error looked between them, fingers twitching. "We need to be on a buddy system. That includes the kids, Res and Spright-" 

"Hon, that isn't _practical,"_ Reaper argued. “Res and I are needed wherever there are SOULs that need to be reaped. It isn't as simple as having someone follow us around." 

"You two be buddies then-" 

"Ru..." Ink looked to him, "We need to find a different way, okay?"

Error wanted to argue. Hell, he fully _intended_ to argue, but then the sound of a distant door creaking open was heard and a series of tiny footsteps began stomping down the stairs.

His _kids_ had been home when that fucker-

"Mommy! Daddy!" PJ cried out excitedly.

Goth was half a second behind with a cheerful, "Duncles!"

The moment the children hopped off the final step of the stairs, Geno scrambled to close Reaper's cloak around him tighter and disappeared in the blink of an eye. Distantly, a door upstairs slammed shut just as the children threw themselves at the newly returned skeleton; blind to the shirt and scarf lingering on the living room floor.

"I missed you!" They squealed. Seconds later, "No, **I** missed you more!"

PJ scowled. "No, I did!"

"I did!" Goth insisted.

Ink met them partway, scooping them into his arms with a bright grin on his face as tears began to fall, "C'mere, both of you! No one missed you more than I did!" 

"Nu huh!!" The kids argued, not fully aware of his tears. 

Ink laughed, burying his face in their shoulders. Error looked at Ink's teary face uncertainly. Reaper put his hand on the destroyer's shoulder. "Can you check on Geno...? I... I'm worried that I might trigger him..." 

Error nodded, murmuring back, "Keep an eye on Inkhead will ya?" He knelt, picking up the shirt and scarf before going to Geno's door.

When he tested the handle and found it unlocked, Error knocked twice to announce himself before pushing the door open. If he didn't want anyone to come in, Geno would have locked the door no matter what kind of upset he was in. "Hey." he greeted, voice gruff but concerned in a way only those who knew him well were able to tell.

Curled up in a fresh shirt with Reaper's cloak wrapped around his shoulders like a blanket, Geno sniffled and turned his head away to hide his watering socket. "Hi..."

"Ge-"

"Error-"

Voices overlapping, the two fell silent. When that silence stretched, Error shifted uncomfortably and held out Geno's scarf. "Here," his brother's hands shook, so he scooted closer and began winding it around Geno's neck securely, "you left this behind, idiot."

Geno's voice cracked as he gave his thanks. It continued cracking when he asked, "W-when...when you went on that p-picnic with I-Ink, was...w-was it r-really-?"

"No." Error interrupted, thankful for the steadiness of the word. It wasn't uncommon for people to mistake Geno as the oldest brother in their trio. Despite his height, he was usually the most level-headed... until alcohol got involved, that is. Seeing him scold Error and Spright and mother the two like they were children only helped further the image that he was the oldest, but Geno just _wasn't_. Error was, and there were duties that came with being a big brother that he had to fulfill. Being strong for Geno right now was one of them. "It..." _Be strong, be strong, be strong._ "...it wasn't Ink."

Slowly, Geno turned to face him. “Did...did you think he was?”

“Yeah,” he admitted, “I did.”

He wasn’t sure if the admission comforted Geno or not, but a little bit of tension seemed to leave his shoulders, though he remained curled forward around a pillow. “D-did...did t-they…” swallowing, Geno forced out the question in a fearful whisper, clearly dreading the answer but needing to _know_. “Did they try to sleep with you?”

Fuck, he didn’t want to think about what Nightmare tried to do. Error couldn’t say for sure what his full plans had been, but he thought back to the flirting and the forward _touching_ that went on before they went to their _date_ hand in hand. “I...I think they wanted to,” he _knew_ Nightmare did, “but I realized they weren’t Ink long before they could try.”

“How? _How did you know it wasn’t Ink?”_ Geno asked, something desperate in his eye. “E-Error, I...I _know_ Reaper but I thought they were him. There was maybe a second there I thought something was weird but I never would have thought that was because he wasn’t my husband. I... Error,” the way Geno says him name reminded him unnervingly of the way PJ calls for him when he’s had a night- _fuck_. Error cringed and threw the thought away, listening more closely as Geno sobbed, “I was going to _fuck_ him. His tongue was in my mouth. I...I was sitting on his fucking _hard-on_ and I liked it because _I thought he was our husband!”_

When Geno’s hand raised to the mark hidden behind his scarf, Error reached out and gently pulled it away. His brother had a terrible habit of picking at the cloth when he’s nervous or upset and he knew Geno’s mood will only crumble more if the glitch accidentally dug a hole into the red cloth. “You didn’t know, glitch face,” he reminded him, “you _didn’t know.”_

“I should have!” Geno argued through his tears. “He...he kissed me like Reaper hasn’t done in years. Like I was new and unfamiliar and he had to learn my mouth. A-and he... Reaper never just tosses my scarf away, but whoever the _fuck_ that was did like it didn’t matter. That… _I should have known_ , but I didn’t because I was distracted by how much I wanted his fucking dick inside of me.” Ashamed, Geno reached back and drew Reaper’s hood over his head; hiding as he whimpered, “I feel like a dirty _whore.”_

_No less than three ribs crack when he’s thrown face forward against the nearest wall of the room. Before he can even so much as utter a single syllable of a pained noise, a cool appendage comes up and around his skull twice as it settles over his teeth to cut off any sounds he may make._

_He tries to move, tries to run, but hands slam on either side of his head and a body presses up against him from behind, trapping him against the hard surface making his ribcage creak._

_“Who is it?” The question isn’t a question. It’s a demand. “Who the fuck is it, Error? Who do I smell on you? Who left their fucking cum on your shorts?”_

_When he doesn’t answer—both because he won’t and because he **can’t** —he hears an angry click of the tongue before something begins clawing at his shorts. The hands boxing in his head don’t move. ___

_Error wants to move. Fuck, he wants to run, but he doesn’t dare try. Not even when his shorts are finally removed and an angry growl whispers directly in his ear:_

_“You want to act like a **whore** , Error? Fine, then I’ll treat you like one. I’ll use you like the fucking slut you are and I’ll keep doing it until you remember that, whore or not, you’re mine-”_

"No.” he rasped, startling Geno with just how intensely the word is spoken. “You’re **not** his whore.”

“E-Error-”

Suddenly angry, he reached out and clamped his hands on Geno’s shoulder. Fuck, why is his brother so _small?_ Geno’s not too shabby in battle but he looked _defenseless_ right now. He always liked that in a lover and Error wanted to cry and scream and rip something apart at the thought because Geno resembling _anything_ of Nightmare’s usual type puts him in even more danger than he was in today. “You’re not a whore, you fucking idiot. You were _tricked_ , Geno. _You were tricked.”_

 _You would have never **willingly** slept with that asshole._ “You’re not th- a whore. Okay?”

Geno looked up at him, still shaking and fighting his tears. Still, he wanted to hide, but the sheer **intensity** of Error's glare slowed his shivering. "Error...?"

"It isn't your fault, Geno. It isn't, okay?"

"Ru..." Geno fiddled with Reaper's cloak, looking down again. "That's... not all... something happened bef-before-" he couldn't even say it, but he gripped his shirt above his chest and looked back to Error again. "My chest is healed."

"Your...?"

"Y-yeah... I don't know i-if... o-or why...? B-but what if th-they-?"

 _Nightmare, healing? No... no Nightmare doesn't heal. He can't._ Error opened his mouth, about to say as much, when Geno slowly formed his SOUL in front of himself.

His _full_ SOUL. 

Dumbly, the two stared at it and slowly processed it.

 _.....oh **fuck**.... Aftertale......_ Error's hands twitched and Geno brought his SOUL back into his body, looking up to him in alarm. "Ru?"

Error swallowed and slowly returned Geno's stare. _Fuck...fuck, fuck, **fuck...**_

"I..."

Anxiety stilled his words. _He's going to hate you_ , a voice whispered in his head. He wanted to laugh because of course it sounds like fucking Nightmare. _He's never going to forgive you for destroying his home. No matter how well a job Ink did at fixing it, he's going to know you **tore** Aftertale to pieces and **he'll hate you f o r e v e r**. Heh, though it doesn't seem like Ink did a good job. Not if he has his entire SOUL back._

He tried to push the toxic thoughts away, but they won't leave. Instead, he mulled over everything he knows about Geno and found himself wanting to cry worse than before once he's done. Here he was trying to act like a good brother when he was about ruin what little composure Geno managed to get back during their little talk.

"Ge..." The nickname tasted foul. Unaware of the tears streaming down his cheeks, he tried again. "Geno, fuck, I...I..."

_He's going to hate you. He's going to hate you. He's going to hate you._

"I...I..." he stutters, fingers twitching rapidly, "I..."

**H e 's g o i n g t o h a t e y o u !**

"I'm sorry."

"For my chest being healed?" Geno frowned at him, though a moment of silence from Error, and his retreating hands tell him something more. The _apology_ is for something more. "Error, what happened...? Wh-why are you sorry?"

_He hates that voice. He hates the fear in his SOUL. He hates that he didn't pay attention to the world he was in. **He hates-**_

A soft knock sounded at the door, and Ink's anxious voice spoke up, "Error? Geno? Is everything okay?"

_No, no, no, **no it isn't-**_

"Ink? I-it's open," Geno called. 

Error murmured to Geno, "During the picnic, after I realized it wasn't Ink, I chased him around the AU. I was ripping the damn place apart trying to kill him." Ink propped the door open, a kid on each hip. They're quiet and clinging to the artist, with heads resting on Ink's shoulders, but they're still awake.

The destroyer looked to his family. His first husband. His children. His godly husband, who was hovering behind the three. He returned his gaze to his first brother, sighing and resigning himself to the hate he's sure to get. "It was Aftertale, Geno."

For a moment? Nothing. 

But then, Geno laughed

And laughed.

And laughed.

_And laughed._

**A n d l a u g h e d**

Somewhere along the way, he began to sob through his laugher, his smile stretched wide in a joyful expression that looked like it _hurt_. "O-oh," he gasped, tears pouring down his face, "is that all?"

Ink slowly handed the kids over to Reaper and walked in. He sat next to Geno, gently pulling him into his arms and resting his head on the smallest skeleton's head.

 _What even were these colors...?_ Ink wasn't sure he ever needed such a chaotic combination... but there was so much yellow..? Sickly and bright and blended with other colors. "Geno...?"

Error was hesitant to say more, but he forced himself to, "Ink and Dream tried to repair it..."

Ink looked to Error. _His phone!_ He pulled one arm from Geno and pulled his phone out. Turning it on yielded dozens of messages from both Dream and Blue.

Quickly scrolling through their chat, he winced. There was a lot to go through and some of the messages stuck out as something that would need further, in-depth discussion, but the gist of things seemed to be this: Something went wrong with his repairs...

...and an important _someone_ was missing.

"Ge..." He murmured, torn between staying to comfort his husband and the job that required he go. "I..." in the end, his work won the internal battle he was having. "I have to go. I- something went wrong, honey. Your world-"

"Just let it _die!"_ Geno sobbed, face hidden in Ink's neck. "Please, please, _please,_ Ink. _Just let it die."_

Ink flinched, but returned his arms around him. Error went with Reaper to put the kids back to sleep when they started to sniffle in response to Geno's hysterics. Ink rubbed Geno's back, hoping he was being comforting. 

_He needs to know... he... he has a right to know..._

"Ge, it's Paps. I don't fully know what's going on, but y- um... Aftertale's Papyrus isn't there anymore-"

Geno spoke over him, though every letter strung in his sentence came out wet, raw, and nearly indistinguishable from his stuttering sobs. "I...I...n-n-need to...to..." hiccuping, he attempted to crawl off of Ink's lap, still gasping out his excuse to run, "I...I n-need-! D-dishes. I need t-to...to f-finish the dishes."

Ink couldn't bring himself to let him go. Before Geno could make it off the bed, he carefully circled his arms around him and coaxed him back onto his original spot. "Gen..."

"I n-need to...t-to...I need t-to...!"

"Geno," Ink soothed, clinging to the loving pink lingering in the background of his own concern. He needed a lifeline to keep him from drowning in the deep blue overtaking Geno's sickly yellow. Slowly rocking the distraught skeleton, he murmured, "It'll be okay, Geno. I'll find him. Dream and Blue will help."

But Geno only shook his head rapidly and wailed, "I n-need to clean! I...I n-need to f-finish the d-dishes!" He needed...he...he needed...

He needed to not exist. To lose himself in something mindless so his mind could drift away and he could forget how to feel, if even for a few moments.

Instead, he pressed his face into his husband's shoulder and screamed. Hands twisted in his scarf, he screamed out his anger, his sick relief, and all the sadness building up inside him. He screamed and screamed and screamed until Ink began shouting back in his panic to get him to stop, and continued screaming from then on until the lack of air blackened his vision.

He only stopped when he forced himself unconscious.

Reaper was in the room the moment the screaming stopped. "What happened?! What did you do?!"

Ink was shaking with the unaltered experience of every one of Geno's intense emotions with no barrier. Reaper stepped forward, hesitant, "Ink?" The artist tilted his head up, meeting his gaze, though neither god nor artist had eye lights.

"H...he..." 

Dream's cheerful ringtone sounded from Ink's phone, but the artist didn't want to move his arms from Geno.

_If only he could soothe Geno's emotions... he wouldn't have had to freak out this bad..._

Reaper tilted his head with a question, and Ink nodded slightly. The god answered, "Ink's phone... Dream? Ink's okay- Listen, now isn't really a good time. Ink just came back and we're-" Reaper cringed and pulled the phone away in time for Ink to hear: 

"OKAY?! WHAT DO YOU **MEAN** HE'S OKAY?! HE HASN'T SEEN BLUE'S OR MY MESSAGES IN A SOLID WEEK AND EVEN _HE_ DOESN'T FORGET TO CHECK HIS PHONE! PUT HIM ON _RIGHT NOW!! PLEASE!"_

Reaper and Ink exchanged glances. The former murmured, "It's for you," as he handed Ink's phone over. Gently, the god took Geno into his arms and crawled into the bed. He cradled his first husband, wings shooting out to wrap around him. 

Ink stepped into the hall, shutting the door behind himself. "Dr-?"

"WHERE THE **FUCK** HAVE YOU BEEN, DAMMIT?!" Dream's unmistakably anxious voice sounded over the phone. "WE **NEEDED** YOU AND WE COULDN'T FIND YOU." 

"I had some things to take care of. Some real bad shit is happening here-"

"Some real bad shit is happening out here too! Aside from both the Sans and Papyrus that's missing from Aftertale? Apparently, there's a new member in the nightmare gang. Can you take a wild guess?!" 

"...no... no that's..."

"We need you Ink!"

Ink knew his anger was infamous. Outside of battle, he very, _very rarely _if **ever** touched his red vial. One sip could send him into a terrible rage that was known to leave worlds in pieces. Just because he put those pieces back together didn't mean that people _forgot_ what his anger was capable of.__

This time; however, it was different. _Natural._

And so much colder than the anger he was used to that he almost didn't recognize it. **"Dream."**

Instantly, Dream fell silent. Ink's voice never came out as flat as it just had. Not unless he was soulless. "I-Ink?"

"Your _brother_ nearly raped one of my husbands today." He informed his longtime friend, eyes narrowed at the floor as his anger worsened. That's what it would have been. Willing or not, Geno thought he was about to sleep with _Reaper_. His consent was attached to his husband's face, and _that hadn't been Reaper who left a mark on his neck-!_ "Before that, he went on a _date_ with Error... _while looking like me_. He's been in my house _twice_ , wearing Reaper's face _and_ my own, and today _things could have ended up a lot worse for a member of my family_. The same member who just _screamed_ himself unconscious because we had to tell him about Aftertale and his brother."

"In-"

"I know my duties." He continued, cutting his friend off. "I attend to them _every time_ you call and I was planning to do so today as well, but I need you to understand that sometimes, if even for a few minutes, _my family needs to come first_. You can yell at me all you want, but I had a good fucking reason for not being around. I had something personal to deal with but, whatever, I guess that doesn't matter."

"....it _does_ matter... Ink I-"

"Didn't know?" Ink took a breath. _Don't get lost in the color... don't get lost in it... just breathe..._ "Yeah. There's a lot we need to catch each other up on. Can you handle it tonight?"

"Ink-"

"Can you _handle it_ , Dream."

"Not without you. Blue doesn't have nearly enough training... I... I'm sorry, I don't mean to-"

Again, Ink cut him off, "Where?"

"...Doodle Sphere..."

"Give me ten minutes." Ink hung up. He dropped his phone into his shorts and shoved his palms into his sockets, shaking. _Fuck...! **Fuck!!**_

This was-! He just-!

Ink went off on his best friend.

And just like that, the anger was gone and replaced with horrible, sickening _guilt._

"How... how do people _live_ with all this without going insane....?" There was so much, so fast. Anger at a raised voice, guilt for responding the way he did, a... gods, he was a little _pleased_ about telling Dream off, too. He...

He didn't have time to stress out over this.

Dragging a hand across his face, he sighed and tried to fit a grin back into place before opening the bedroom door. When Reaper looked up, his concern told Ink whatever smiling he was wearing wasn't holding up. "Hon?"

"I..." his shoulders slumped, "I need to go. Dream needs me. It involves..." Slowly, his eyes flickered to Geno.

Reaper held him closer and nodded. "Yeah... Error's still with the kids." Ink hesitated, still in the doorway. He stepped in, kissing both husbands on the head, then heading out the door, down the hall, and to the kids' room. 

Error glanced up, eye lights narrowing. "Ink?" He blinked at the worry and guilt clear on the artist's face. "Hon, what happened?" 

Softly, "I yelled at Dream..." Ink felt something prickling at the corner of one of his sockets. He sniffed. "I need to go."

"No. No we need-"

"It's about Geno's Papyrus, Error. I... _we_ can't ignore this..." Ink stepped in, softening his voice to not wake the kids again. He approached Error, who stood, watching Ink.

Ink reached for Error's hand, curling his fingers around Error's. "I told him I'd be there in ten. Reaper has Geno in the other room. He… he’s asleep…"

Something too complex for Ink to understand filled Error's eyes. He knew the basic meaning of the colors all around his first but he didn't have the time or enough understanding to piece together the meaning. "Will you be home tonight?"

Ink shook his head, his hand lightly squeezing Error's when the destroyer's fingers twitched. "Most likely? No."

"Ink, the kids missed you."

"I know..." he whispered, regret growing when he turned his eyes to the children. Despite having their own beds, Goth was curled up with PJ in the older boy's bed. Seeing his mother cry must have really upset him. "I'll try to hurry, but...but this Papyrus thing? It has the potential to be _bad_ and Geno...hon, I don't know if he can handle that. I'll try to remember to call when I have time, okay?"

The indescribable emotions within Error grew, but he nodded. "You should get going then. The sooner you leave, the sooner you come back."

Ink didn't move. He kept staring at Error, though his gaze was flicking all over his husband's face and body. He shut his eyes, squeezing Error's hand slightly more. "Why is it so hard...?" he whispered.

Error moved closer, tugging Ink down by his scarf. He rested his forehead on the other's chin. "Just... don't get lost in your emotions, you idiot." 

"How...?" Ink looked at him. "How do you do it...?"

"..." Error looked back. 

_What are you feeling?? What are these colors...?!_

"Rorschach, you're procrastinating."

His voice was small, "I don't want to go, but I know I need to..."

 _"Go._ I'll take your place as protector until you get back, okay?" Error forced a grin on his face, "Maybe I'll do a better job than the airhead, huh?"

Yellow, though faint, burst in Ink's chest, and he forced a laugh out from the bundle of mucky colors. "Yeah... maybe..." he smiled to his husband, murmuring, "I'll come back for you, Fringe." He met Error's grin with his own, just barely stopping himself when Error opened for him. He pulled away, taking the sash off and draping it onto Error's shoulders. "There, now you look more like me."

Error scoffed. "Yeah, just pump more air in my skull and we're twins." He watched Ink start to leave. "Be safe, dumbass."

Ink grabbed his brush from his back, mustering up the energy to send a flirty wink to him. "I will, for you."

A blush spread across the destroyer's face, and Ink disappeared through his paint portal. The portal faded, leaving Error with the kids and his first's sash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update on Monday~! 
> 
> (I know it seems like this is going to be the update schedule, but it's still dependent on IRL stuff from both our sides! Our goal is to try and update at least once a week, though!)


	17. A Dreamy Chat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Stars align. Mostly.

Pulling up a mask of professionalism was hard, but he managed it. Not well, but well enough that it held firm when he stepped out of his ink and into the doodle sphere where two bright, uncertain stares instantly took to watching him warily.

Something told Ink that Dream had him on speaker during their call.

"Dream," he greeted, "Blue."

Always one to withhold judgment until he had both sides of a story, Blue smiled and stepped forward to meet him halfway as he neared. The smile faltered when he took notice of Ink's missing sash. "Ink, your-!"

"It's fine, Blue." He tried to reassure. His smile felt like it fit poorly with Dream’s silence in the background. "Error has my sash. I..I don't need it anymore."

"You don't **need** it...?" Blue glanced from Ink's chest to his face. 

Dream and Ink met gazes with the latter wondering, _Should I apologize? Will **he** apologize...?_ Thinking back to the story Error told him, confirmed by Geno, then again with Geno, confirmed by Reaper, it was almost hard to look at Dream. 

Ink **knew** Dream and Nightmare were totally different. As different as, snort, day and night. But as far as Ink knew, Nightmare had never attempted anything like... 

"How did you get a SOUL?" Dream asked softly. 

"...it was a gift." As ludicrous as the answer sounded, it was the truth. "We have much more important topics to cover, don't we?" 

"Yeah, we do..." 

Ink squinted slightly, just now noticing how well guarded Dream's emotions were. They were a lot more muted than Blue's vibrant, nearly blinding confusion and nervousness. _Whatever he felt, he felt intensely, didn’t he?_

 _I'll have to work on trying to block that out, won't I..._ Ink stepped forward, expression cracking slightly to one of... hesitation. He was still staring at Dream.

He wasn't sure, but Ink thought he _hated_ how he was feeling. The uncertainty was terrible. He was guilty, yes, but the anger from earlier was still there, quiet yet cold from where it lingered in the background. He wanted to forgive and forget, but he also _didn't_ want that, which only made his guilt stronger. Dream was his _friend_. His best friend! Ink didn't want to be mad at him forever...

And despite the guilt, he was still mad _now_. 

Sighing quietly, he turned a smile to Blue. "Can you do me a favor?"

Blue was easily excitable and never turned down whatever he deemed as a job, but a great personality and decent work skills alone didn't land you an apprenticeship with the Stars. Back turned to Dream, his eyes sharpened even as he smiled brightly and he nodded. "What is it?" _What do you want me to pretend to do so you can talk to Dream?_

Ink's next smile felt more natural. "Can you track down some of my spare vials? I don't need it, but having some paint on hand will be nice, though I'm not sure if it still has use."

Blue winked at him before spinning on his heel and marching away. "Got it, co-leader!"

Ink watched him go for a moment before turning his gaze back to Dream. The guardian's attention hadn't left Ink's, but he was fiddling with a loose string on one of his gloves. "...is your husband okay...?" 

" _Almost_ is still traumatizing, Dream," Ink cringed internally at how sharp his voice was. "But we're not here to talk about my family," _why was the anger so easy to sink into...?!_ "We're here to talk about Aftertale's Papyrus." 

"Your brother-in-law," Dream tilted his head slightly. He hadn't blinked yet. It was like he was waiting for Ink to strike at him or to lose it or _something_.

Ink narrowed his sockets, fighting against the cold anger. 

Seeming to sense that for himself, Dream took a cautious step forward. Gaining confidence when Ink didn’t move, he took another, and another, until he stood directly in front of his artist friend. He tilted his head up, momentarily distracted, "...when'd you get a growth spurt...?" 

The guardian shook his head and focused. "Ink, I'm not going to apologize for freaking out about your disappearance, and you shouldn't apologize about yelling at me." Ink tensed, but Dream's slight smile stopped the artist from speaking, "I just... I know you have other responsibilities, but sometimes it's hard to remember. The time you've spent with your new family is barely a _blink_ in comparison to the time you've spent protecting the multiverse,” _with me_ , “and it wasn't fair of me to forget such an important addition to your life." 

When he hesitated, Ink took over, "I spent that time away because when I got my SOUL, I got a little something extra-" 

"Empath." 

Ink froze. "How...?" 

"You were squinting slightly when you looked directly at Blue."

"Maybe his smile was just too bright to handle? I'm pretty sure he uses whitening toothpaste to keep it perfect. It _glints_ in the light."

Dream shot him a look void of amusement. "Ink..."

Why was he so _irritated_ at that tone? Ink really, really didn't understand this as much as he originally thought he did. Maybe he should have taken another week at Life's...? "Okay, fine," he sighed, "I...yes. I'm an empath now, but that's not- It's... Dream, you called me here to deal with this Papyrus situation. We can talk about me later. I..."

He thought back to Geno's reaction to the news that Error destroyed his world. To the begging for Ink, The Protector, to simply leave it be and let his world end. And, stars, he recalled the screaming. 

"Ink...?"

"...Geno's had a really bad day, Dreamboat. I...I really don't want to make it worse by having to tell him his Papyrus went evil. _Please_ , can we just focus on that issue for now? I need details if you want my help."

Dream seemed to soften at Ink's nickname for him, but seriousness replaced the expression quickly. "Yeah." He walked over to Ink's dining room, where his table was covered with drawings and surveillance print outs. "Blue noticed the Papyrus missing around the time we got done with restoring Aftertale." As he spoke, Dream pulled closer the images he was talking about. "A few days went by with the human resetting, and that's when we noticed the Sans' health deteriorate until it was gone." Dream met his gaze. "The Sans lost more and more of his SOUL until, one reset, he didn't come back. Another thing? It seems like the Papyrus was the epicenter of the resets." 

"What do you mean?" 

"The Papyrus _remembered_ his world being ripped apart. He remembers seeing Error and he remembers seeing _you_." Dream frowned at Ink. "I know it wasn't you. It was probably my brother dressed as you, but _he_ doesn't know that." 

"How do you know-" 

"I went in and talked to him when you weren't responding. He asked me about my bow and arrows, asking for help in case the _destroyers_ come back. _Plural_. He wanted to protect his AU and his sick brother. Until his brother didn’t come back." 

"Dream..." 

The guardian glanced away, sockets narrowed. "We're not apologizing, remember? We've both done things. We'll work through them after we help your brother-in-law." 

Ink reached for Dream, curious about what he was feeling, but Dream moved around the table, pulling up another picture. "We haven't been able to find him since his Sans didn't come back, then rumors began about a Papyrus hanging around Killer and Cross."

Sighing, Ink, heh, crossed his arms and quietly observed everything spread out on the table. Glancing at the picture Dream held, he squinted and tried to make out any features from the tall, shadowed figure slightly obstructed by Cross. Nothing. Just a blurry silhouette. "Hanging out as in taco raids or _hanging_ out as in _murder_?"

"From what I understand, he's only been sighted during less harmful mischief. Like you said: taco raids, mild threads to strike up fear, and other smaller jobs that don't involve violence but would still typically be out of the comfort level of a Papyrus' morals. In all honesty though, I'm not actually sure most of the things he's been involved with were jobs. None of it seems like my brother's usual plots."

"How was he during your interactions?"

Dream frowned, "...Hurt. Confused. _Angry_ , too, but... but not to the point of running off and joining a _gang_. I've been worrying over if I possibly missed something, but negativity... well, you know how used to identifying that I am. Even if he was trying to hide the extend of his anger, I would have noticed it."

Ink didn't like where this was going. "You think an outside force fanned the flames?"

"It's one thing to join a gang because you're hurt and upset and just want somewhere to belong." Dream said softly. "It's a completely other thing to _jump worlds_ only be picked up as one of my brother's _nightmares_. That... that doesn't just _happen_ , Ink. Nightmare has always been picky, even before all this. If he let a member join, it's because he _wants_ them for whatever use they have. And the timing..."

Letting his sentence fade into silence, Dream sighed; worn. "Anyways, that's all we have."

"You needed another pair of sockets to try and find something we're missing..."

Dream pulled a chair out and sat heavily down in it. "Mostly... and since this is _Aftertale_..." 

"Extra interest..." Ink sighed too and leaned on the table. "Okay... so the facts: you've talked with him. He's been seen on smaller errand-type runs. He's _angry_ , and probably holds intense resentment towards Error and myself. The theory is that it's too coincidental, and that he was... _convinced_ into Nightmare's gang." Ink shut his eyes against the growing panic and the need to get back to his family **now**. "How do you think my presence is going to help, Dreamboat? He gets a target to attack until he realizes I can't die? _Then_ what?" 

"..." Dream looked down, fidgeting with his gloves again. _Are you still invulnerable…?_ "I... was more thinking... maybe Geno could help..." 

"No. No, he's got too much on his plate already." 

"He has to learn about his brother at some point. It would be better coming from you. And maybe Geno will help sway him back to good? Maybe he could-" 

Ink looked up at Dream, voice hoarse, "You don't understand. Geno _cannot_ help." 

Dream returned his gaze, sensing the rubbed-raw emotion in Ink. "Oh..." he said, though he wasn't entirely sure _why_ Geno couldn't help. 

"...Is it possible for his anger to continue to be fed?" 

The guardian nodded slowly, closing his eyes. "Yeah. It can absolutely happen, Inkblot. We've _seen_ it before with Error, when he first joined the nightmares. It's subtle, but it's powerful." 

_...could I do something like that...?_

Ink shoved the thought down. Now wasn't the time. "So, I go in, he gets angry, his anger keeps cycling until it's worse and worse and either I'm too incapacitated to do anything for a bit, or he's dead? We need a new solution."

Exhaustion crept into Dream’s smile, reminding Ink that his friend had been dealing with this issue for days now. Knowing Dream’s work ethic, the guardian probably took few breaks during that period, if any at all. 

“I won’t lie, Ink, I...I was really hoping Geno _would_ be the solution. Papyrus was really worried about his brother. Worried enough that he actively took on learning how to work a new weapon to protect him. I know that Geno technically isn’t the brother he knows and that the same goes for Geno, but they’re still part from the same overall set and seeing him might inspire some good…” At Ink’s firm stare, Dream’s shoulders slumped. “I know, Inkblot. You said no and I... I’ll respect that. I’m just afraid I don’t really know where to go from here since that option is out.”

“We’ll think of something, Dreamboat.” he promised, though a sense of unease had him tensing. After his breakdown, letting Geno near his brother didn’t seem healthy or helpful for the situation he was in. Ink understood where Dream was coming from, but his friend didn’t see Geno in the state he was in earlier. He didn’t hear that begging. The plea. Still… “If,” he began hesitantly, “and _only_ if we can’t come up with a solution, then I... I’ll bring Geno in, but it _has_ to be the very last possible option, Dream.”

Ah, there was the enthusiastic smile Ink knew and loved. Bright and happy and charming enough that it once made a poor unsuspecting monster faint with a blush, thus earning Dream his nickname. “We’ll keep him safe,” the guardian said, literal sparkles in his golden eyes, “but... we’re a good team, Ink. I’m sure it won’t come to having to bring him in. We’ll figure something out.”

“Yeah,” he grinned, optimism of his own made him start to bounce on his heels excitedly, “we will. Oh! You can stop eavesdropping, Blue! We need you in here for planning.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about~” Blue sang with a playful grin as he walked over with a box of paint in his arms. “I was completely focused on the favor you asked me to do.”

As he smiled wider and began a short, teasing back and forth with his friends, Ink decided that he felt... good. The regret of his earlier scene with Dream was stubbornly refusing to leave and he was worried about this whole Aftertale situation but, overall, he felt good.

Now, if only his uneasiness would fade...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter on Wednesday~! - 🐺


	18. A Needed Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which love takes a dragon's shape.

After three days and next to no solidly good ideas on how to approach the Aftertale Papyrus, who'd taken to be called "End" or "Endure", Ink wanted to go home. He felt like he needed to check on his family, play with the kids, maybe flirt up his first for a bit. Have a _night of relaxation_ , and maybe tackle the problem again. 

They talked about Ink's week away, a little of his empathy, even less about his family, and quite a bit about the Endure situation, and Nightmare. 

Dream watched Ink fiddle with his scarf. The exhaustion was hitting the three of them hard, though none were admitting it. 

"I should just approach him with you and try talking to him, Dreamboat." 

"I'm really not sure that's a good idea-" 

"Better me than Geno, right? Just get it over with? And if you're with me, maybe he'll pause long enough to talk." Ink stared at Dream. "We don't really have a lot of options left, unless we ask Error for _help_." 

Dream blinked, "Would he destroy Aftertale for you?" 

Ink fidgeted. _Maybe? Maybe not? I don't know..._ "The problem isn't _Aftertale_ , though, or trying to save or destroy it. It's Endure and Nightmare."

At the mention of his brother, Dream winced, Ink's words from the phone call incident ringing through his head. He tried about three or four times to approach the topic, but Ink shot him down whenever he hesitantly brought his brother's actions up; citing that dealing with the Papyrus situation should be their focus before attempt to tackle anything else.

Still, he couldn't help his worry. Or the misplaced sense of guilt he felt. "Your _brother_ ," Ink had said, and never before had his connection to their enemy seemed so foul. Dream was well aware of the horrible things his brother was linked to, but such an extreme...?

He had hoped Nightmare was better than _that_. Not good, but... but _better_.

"Dreamboat?" Ink called, head tilted worriedly.

Smiling through the sense of disappointment his brother's crimes always filled him with, Dream murmured an apology for spacing out and turned his focus back to their conversation. "I think I'll try searching Endure out on my own first. If our best plan is throwing you at him, then I should try to ease the way as much as I can. If I'm lucky, he'll be willing to work through his feelings before facing you."

"And if you're not?"

Ink didn't like the smile his friend wore. Or his shrug. "Then it's a good thing I have you on speed dial. Back up is only a click away."

Dream's words about the missing week echoed in Ink's mind, and he had to turn away slightly to keep the flash of guilt from his gaze. "Alright. Where do you want Blue and I?" 

Blue perked up, "I've been keeping Stretch up-to-date on being in the Doodle Sphere! _And_ I can access my tech cave from here!" 

Dream nodded, "If you're comfortable, I'd like you to stay here and keep surveillance on Aftertale and any of the recent hits End and Cross have been in." Dream looked to Ink, hesitating. 

"I'll keep my phone on. I'll just let them know I might need to leave immediately if I get a call…" He tried so hard to keep his voice neutral, but the hint of frustration still bled through. _The usual_.

Dream nodded, "I'll try not to call, Inkblot..." 

Ink cringed, crossing his arms and fidgeting in place. "Dream..." he sighed, "...Please be careful...."

Visibly softening, Dream stepped forward and slid his arms around Ink.

Distantly, Ink realized that this was the first bit of physical contact they had since the last time Ink saw his friend. He was too busy sinking into the bright golden hues of Dream's emotions to care. 

Arms sliding around the smaller skeleton, he sighed happily; finally feeling the last dregs of their confrontation over the phone fading away. For now, at least.

"You be careful too, Ink. If Nightmare's already made it into your home twice..."

"Error won't let him get inside a third time, Dreamboat." Expression darkening, he let his arms fall back to his sides and stepped away with a determined expression. " _ **I**_ won't let him anywhere near my family either. Twice isn't just enough. It's twice _too much_."

"Do you want me to turn a screen your way?" Blue asked.

The thought had merit, but Ink shook his head. "Ru won't like people watching our us, even if it's a friend. Just keep me updated on anything suspicious, okay? And, again, _be safe, Dream_. Please don't make me end up having to run this team alone. "

Dream looked at up at him. "You be careful too-" 

"Yeah," Blue glanced over to Ink. "I still have a lot of things you need to teach me!"   
Ink smiled at them and nodded. "Yeah. But Dream? Make sure you rest before talking to End, okay? And Blue? Please don't forget to eat again? Last thing we need is your brother coming after us because you fainted when you went home." 

"Yeah yeah, go back to your family, we'll call if we need you!" Blue smiled brightly at Ink. Dream nodded in agreement. 

Ink withdrew Broomy from his back and swiped his brush on the floor, stepping through to his home. 

He landed in the room he shared with Error. One look at the bed had him wanting to flop face-first in it, but he pulled his phone out and texted Error that he was back.

The last thing he expected was for a portal to open right beneath his feet.

Ink had just enough time for his symbols to flash into alarmed exclamation points before he was sent plummeting through the opening in his floor. Sockets clenched shut, he braced himself for what he was sure was about to be a harsh impact.

Arms caught him in a bridal carry.

"Fuck," Error cursed, stumbling back a bit but maintaining the hold, "did you get even _taller?!_ What the actual fuck, squid?!"

Relaxing at the familiar voice, Ink blinked open his sockets and brightened as he met Error's glare, though he absentmindedly took note of the fact that they seemed to be in...a basement? Was this _their_ basement? He wasn't sure if they had one or not, but a few things in the boxes around them looked familiar.

Eh, he had more important things to worry about, like... "Ru!" Throwing his arms around Error's neck, he eagerly pulled his first down for an overjoyed reunion kiss. "I missed you," he murmured against the other's teeth, "so, so much."

Blushing and panting as they pulled away, Error stuttered, "M-missed you too, I-Inky." A little dazed, it took him a few moments to shake off the affects of the kiss. Once he managed that; however, Ink found himself pouting in disappointment as he was set down on his feet. Error ignored the look in favor of looking over Ink with a slight frown. "Definitely even taller." he grumbled before shaking his head to focus himself. "Does anyone else know you're back?"

He wanted to joke about Error potentially being jealous of him going to one of their other husbands first, but the worry he could sense nipped any and all teasing in the bud. "No. I sent you a message the moment I appeared in our room. Why?"

Relieved, Error slumped. "Good, good. I mistakenly thought you'd have the fucking sense to call _before_ coming home, but I was wrong. I wanted to let you know about our new situation before you saw anyone."

Ink frowned. "Ru, if something happened, then you should have called me the mome-"

"It's nothing drastic, Ink." Error cut in. Then, he winced. "Well, it's...it's not something I thought we needed to worry you with right away."

Ink ducked his head to catch Error's eyes. "Ru....? Hon, what is it?" 

"Y-you know how Geno's always cooking? How he's practically living in the kitchen?" 

"Yeah, and?" Ink reached for Error's hands, not wanting to avoid touching him after spending so long apart. _Though I guess three days isn't long...?_

Error looked down to their hands, fiddling with his ring before murmuring, "We had to hide our knives." 

Ink stared at him, red rising in his gaze. "....why...? Did someone-?" 

"No! No... nobody got hurt, but..." Error hissed, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he recalled the... event. "Geno started freaking out when he saw one of the knives... Reaper said he'd bought him the pink sparkly ones a long time ago specifically to try and distance Geno his time with Chara and... yeah...."

Brushing his fingers against the inside of Error's wrist, Ink absently toyed with the delicate looking bones as thought over his husband's words. Slowly, his hand crept up Error's arm until his own was slung over the other skeleton's shoulder in a half embrace of sorts. "I...I don't understand. Like you said, Gen's _always_ in the kitchen, Ru. He wields those knives just as well as I do my brush when he cooks and he's never panicked before."

Stepping closer into Ink's personal space, Error sighed and shrugged. When the movement knocked off Ink's arm, the artist settled for wrapping it around his waist instead. "Yeah, well, he's never been traumatized _this_ much in one day ether."

Ink's chest ached with a surge of deep, deep blue. "No." he begged, not liking what the words implied. "Ru, honey, _please_ tell me this didn't happen the same day that I-"

Error's averted his eyes, unintentionally answering his question. "You didn't see how he was acting when he woke up, Inky. I...Reaps and I both thought giving him something to do would help take his mind off things. Neither of us saw the harm in letting him cook."

Ink's arm tightened around Error. He looked up and around the house, searching out the different color bundles. "Is he here...?" 

"Heh, yeah... stay-at-home-parent and willing hermit? He hasn't really left, and he's been hesitant to return to the kitchen, even though Reaps and I told him the knives were gone..." Error rested his head on Ink's shoulder, then turned and wrapped arms around him. He nuzzled his face into Ink's chest and sighed deeply. A content yellow-pink started to flow into his chest, but the deep blues were still there. 

Ink rested his chin on Error's head, shutting his sockets as he soaked in as much of the moment as he could. He found that he couldn't enjoy it until he checked up on Geno, but... he let out a soft hum. 

Error murmured, "And the kids missed you. PJ's starting to get cranky that you're never here." 

"Heh..." Ink sighed. The thought of just how much more time he would likely have to spend away until the problem was resolved just… "Ru... about Aftertale's Papyrus... there's rumors and surveillance showing him with the nightmares." He tried to keep his voice as gentle as he could, but it sounded strained. "Dream... Dream's going to try to talk to him, but if things to south, he's going to call and I'll _need_ to leave."

A blue a few shades warmer than the sadness Error felt for his brother's predicament entered the mix around his husband. It wasn't an entirely sad color, but it wasn't happy either. Not with the greenish and gray tints it had. _Jealousy_ , he identified. And something just on the edges of something colder than sorrow alone could manage.

When Error sighed and pulled away but no red sparked in his mix, Ink realized just what the color was. _Resignation_.

Error already accepted he'd have to go before Ink even _told_ him. Then again, it wasn't like his disappearances in the name of work were something rare.

"Ru..."

"C'mon." Error muttered, already turned away and moving to the stairs. When he moved away, the light he was standing under glinted off a box of knives. Ink noticed a few of the ones from his in-home art studio thrown in. "Reaps should still be distracting Geno downstairs. Goth is napping but PJ wouldn't settle down for one of his own so he should still be in the playroom. Go spend time with him before checking on Ge. The kid hasn't seen you for more than an hour in days, squid."

Ink chased after him, grabbing his hand. Error paused on the steps, giving him a curious look. Smiling shyly, Ink murmured, "Can I get a kiss before...?" 

A light blush dusted Error's face, but his expression softened. "About time you asked, dumbass..." Standing on the step above him, Error pulled him closer by his scarf. Their grins met, and Ink melted into the feel and the colors and _Error_. 

The other muddied colors were still there, but Ink focused on their pinks and how well they complimented each other. Ink hummed into the kiss, grinning more at the sudden _vibrancy_ the pink developed. Error pulled back slightly, whisper hot and shaky, "You a-aren't going to distract me. My will is _iron_." 

"Want me to make it _threadbare?_ " Ink murmured. 

Error paused, his colors shifting into suspicion. He pulled away more and stared at Ink, eyes searching Ink's expression. Ink blinked, smile fading. He squeezed Error's hand, "It's me, Fringe... sorry..." 

Visibly relaxing, he squeezed Ink's hand back. "Okay... but seriously, PJ's going to drive me more nuts if he doesn't get to see you." 

Ink nodded, following Error up the rest of the steps.

When they opened the door leading to the living room, Reaper tensed and looked up from where he was whispering to Geno quietly. Upon seeing Ink and Error, he relaxed and shot them both a weary smile before mouthing a greeting at Ink. Curled up in his arms, Geno shifted a bit but didn't lift his head, though he didn't seem to be asleep. He probably assumed it was just Error.

_Later_. Ink told himself when he took a few steps forward without thinking. Returning Reaper's greeting with a smile of his own and a wave, he motioned upstairs in the direction of the playroom and waited until the god nodded in understanding before making his way up the stairs with Error.

"If he gets so overwhelmed he cries, I'm never letting you fuck me again." Error threatened, coming to a stop outside of the playroom. "Get your ass in there. I'm going to go order dinner for the house."

Ink turned a pout onto Error. "You sure you wanna commit to that? You'll hurt my brand new feelings." 

Error scowled, though a playful color flickered by the pinks. _"Go!"_ Ink squeezed Error's hand, winking at him. He let go and faced the playroom door. 

And hesitated. 

The destroyer stared at him. He rolled his eyes and opened the door, making sure to stay out of sight from inside the room. 

PJ looked over, startled at the door, before focusing on Ink. "MaaAAA!!" He scrambled to stand from his mess of papers and art supplies. Ink knelt, already starting to choke up at the _vibrant_ bursts of joy and love and excitement sparking off PJ, as the child ran over and leapt into Ink's arms. 

Error watched from just outside the door. _Of course **Ink** would be the one crying_...

Deciding to give them privacy, he carefully pulled the door shut and crept away to make his rounds. He had skeletons to feed... with takeout. 

From within the playroom, Ink tried his best to keep himself from blubbering like a child. No, not like a child, actually, because PJ's eyes were dry as he snuggled deeper into Ink's embrace.

"Hey, baby. How's my little artist?"

Grinning brightly, PJ squirmed out of Ink's arms and took his hand to drag him over to his pile of papers. "Good, Mama! I was drawin' you pictures 'cause Daddy said so!"

"Awww, daddy told you to draw me pictures?"

PJ shook his head and urged Ink to sit so he could reclaim his spot on his lap. "Daddy said not to tell Mama so no. But lookie!" selecting a color drawing, he held it up to his mother's face excitedly. "For you!"

Ink looked at the picture, fighting back tears as he saw Goth carrying Geno with a big grin, and PJ taller than Ink. he curled around PJ, gently holding the child and his picture. "It's beautiful, PJ..." 

PJ stared up at him. "Why are you crying...?" 

Ink blinked, quickly wiping his tears and smiling at his son, "I missed you quite a bit, little one-" 

"CAN WE DRAW TOGETHER?!" PJ interrupted with exuberance. 

"Of course!" Ink kissed his head softly then looked out at his supplies. Broomy sat on the floor behind them, but neither Protector nor little artist noticed. 

PJ gave Ink a waterproof ballpoint pen and grabbed his watercolors for himself. "I wanna color what you draw." 

Ink grinned at him. "Want me to teach you to bring some of your drawings to life?" 

Gasping, one of the child's eye lights flashed into a star, and he practically yelled, "DRAGON?!" 

Laughing, Ink nodded, "If you want! It'll be a small one and it'll fade in a bit, but yeah!"

PJ eagerly slammed a sheet of paper in front of Ink. Realizing it was the wrong one, he quickly tore it away and dug through the stacks of art pads all around them before finding one much too big but of the right type. "Dragon, dragon, dragon!" he chanted, setting the large book in front of Ink and flipping to a clean page. "Imma make it pink."

"Why pink?" Ink asked curiously, starting on the drawing with slow strokes that PJ could easily follow. His son learned a lot of his skills through watching Ink's example, so he was sure to let him see everything he was doing. 

Peering at the smooth flow of the pen with an awed grin, the child bouncedly on his heels excited and tried to copy the motions on a smaller art pad he held in his hands. "Gothy's sad cause his mama is sad. Daddy says uncle's favorite color is pink, so the dragon will be pink and then Gothy won't be sad because uncle won't be sad! Cause the _dragon_ is gonna be _pink_ , just like uncle likes!"

"Can I make my dragon pink, too?" 

"YES! More pink dragons! We can make a whole _army_ of pink dragons to make them happy!" 

Ink thought about the absolute mess that was going to leave the house if they decided to go forth with a whole army. "Hmmm... How about we stick to the two pink dragons for the moment, dear?" 

"We're going to make the bestest pink dragons _ever!_ " 

"Heck yes, we are!" Enthused by PJ's own excitement, Ink's smile brightened. 

They finished their drawing of the dragons and started coloring them in just as Error called about dinner. PJ, torn between excitement for food and pouting about not finishing, looked up to Ink. "Can we finish when we're done?" 

"Of course, hon!" Ink sat up opening his arms. "Wanna piggy back ride to dinner?" 

"YES!" PJ scrambled up Ink's back, wrapping his arms eagerly around the taller skeleton's shoulders.

Respite met them in the hall with a drowsy looking Goth cradled in arms. Upon seeing Ink, the little guy's sockets blinked a few times as if trying to decide whether or not they were seeing who they were seeing. When Ink never disappeared, Goth brightened a bit and waved. "Hi, duncle."

“Hey, Gothy." He cooed, marching over with PJ on his back to drop a kiss to Goth's skull. Standing to his full height, he smiled at Respite and nodded. "Hey, Res. Ready for dinner?"

Nodding rapidly, Goth yawned before reaching out his arms to Ink. "I wanna ride too."

Oh, Ink wasn't sure he could handle two-

He didn't have time to finish the thought. Although Respite tried to stop him, Goth used his uncle as a launching pad and threw himself at Ink.

Ink just _barely_ caught Goth with one arm, the other supporting PJ on his back. Goth brightened, readjusting himself so he could wrap arms and legs around Ink's chest. After a few unsteady hops to try and get his arms more secure under the children, Ink glanced between them. "O-okay, are we good? Everyone ready for some food?" 

"Yeah!" PJ yelled. 

"Mmhmm," Goth murmured sleepily. 

Respite looked uncertain. "Are You Sure You've Got Them, Ink...?" 

"Of course!" Ink glanced at the stairs. "Um... could you go down the stairs first in case we trip...?" 

Respite smiled, nodding. "Of Course!" he started making his way down the stairs, checking back to make sure Ink didn't miss a step. 

At the last one, Ink started stomping towards the kitchen, "Rawr! We've got the hungries, Dunkle Error!" 

Error glanced over, doing a double-take at Ink holding both kids. "Did your brain get smaller when you got taller, you funking idiot?!" Sparing Spright a thankful look for the last-second censor, Error marched over and carefully pried Goth away from Ink. "What if you dropped one of them?!"

Smiling sheepishly, Ink knelt down to let PJ slide off his back. "Respite was there just in case, Ru, but," he added at the nasty glare sent his way, "I won't do it again."

"Good. Noodles or rice, idiot?"

Glancing at the table, Ink found a spread of opened take out containers. None of it contained anything that couldn't be cut with the rounded edge of a spoon. That was good. "Noodles, please."

“Noodles!" Goth and PJ echoed, simply because they wanted to copy the taller skeleton.

"If There Is Enough To Go Around, Then I Would Like Noodles Too, Please," Respite requested.

Already seated with his own plateful of food, Spright pouted playfully. "Aww, ain't no one down with eatin' rice with me?"

"I'll take rice..."

"Mommy!" Goth cheered, running over and latching onto Geno's legs.

Ink looked over to Geno, a soft smile on his face, though concern threatened to wipe it off. "Hey, Gen, how are you feeling?" 

Geno stared at Ink, gaze flicking to Error. With a nod from his brother, subtle tension left his shoulders and he shrugged slightly. "I've been better." He looked to Goth and cooed, "How was your nap, buddy?" 

Staring up at him, Goth grinned, "It was good! We're getting food now!" 

"Yes, I see that," Geno's smile softened. He knelt down to pick Goth up, holding the child like a precious package. 

PJ turned a bright gaze to Ink and raised a finger to his grin secretively. Ink grinned back and winked at him. If it hadn't been for the pure and bright colors melting in and out of his child- 

"INK!" 

Startled, the artist looked over to Error, "Yeah?" 

"What entrée do you want with your noodles?"

"Oh! Is this from Reap's favorite place?"

Error gave him a flat expression that made it clear he was judging Ink's intelligence and found it lacking. "If I ordered food like this from anywhere else, he'd pout through dinner."

"They have the best sesame chicken!" Reaper argued in defense of himself as he drifted into the room. Coming to a stop next to Ink, he leaned up and pressed a kiss to the artist's cheek to make up for his earlier lackluster greeting. "I'm a god, Ru. I deserve the best of the best."

"You're a pain in the as- _butt_. Sit down, bird brain. Your bird seeds are already on the plate."

"Having sesame seeds on my food doesn't make them bird seeds. I'm not an actual bird!" 

Geno snorted from the table, Goth now seated on his lap and happily twirling a fork in a small bowl of noodles. "You have wings and went through three bags of sunflower seeds in an hour. Sit down and eat your food, you cannibal."

"I'm not a chicken!"

Error smirked, but instead of continuing to tease Reaper, he looked at Ink with a raised brow, still waiting for an answer.

Ink grinned, "Did you get tofu?"

Error's gaze slowly iced into disgust. "And why the fu _uuudge_ would I get that abomination with our meal? You want tofu? It's at the fu- the _very nice_ restaurant." 

Ink widened his sockets at him and sniffed. "Oh...? So you're picking favorites now? That's not very nice!" 

Scowling more, Error picked up the sesame chicken box. "Go join bird brain, airhead.” 

Ink stepped closer to him, pleased that Error's head just barely missed Ink's chin. "Wait! What are you eating?" 

" _Not_ sesame chicken and not tofu! Disgusting." 

"You just haven't had **my** tofu, Ruru~!" 

Error scoffed. "I ain't gonna, either! Tofu is tofu is gross, and does not belong in our good, carby dinner!"

"Bruh," Spright chuckled, "yain't ever had it."

Picking out what he wanted to eat from the containers, Error scowled and angrily shoved a piece of meat into his mouth. A quick glance at his plate showed little to no vegetables. "Why waste my time suffering? Glitch face over there is the masochist."

Eyes on his own plate, Geno quietly nudged at a piece of broccoli with his chop sticks before grabbing hold of the green and bringing it to Goth's mouth. He wouldn't look at anyone when the air around the adults got tense, but he tried for a small smile and murmured, "At least I eat like an adult. So much for being older."

"You weren't even a _thought_ when I became an adult!"

"Babe," Reaper chuckled, relaxing when Geno didn't react poorly to Error's comment, "you're the youngest adult here along with Spright."

Huh, that was true, wasn't it?

Unable to help himself, Ink reached over the table and pinched Geno cheek. "Awww, my whittle husband~"

Geno glanced up at Ink. "I'll kick your arse. Tall or not." 

Ink chuckled and took his hand back, "I'd let you~!" 

A slight blush spread across his face and he focused back on his food. "Buncha idiots, huh, Gothy?" 

Goth was making faces as he ate the broccoli, but with Geno's attention back on him, he brightened and nodded.

Aside from PJ, everyone made dramatic faces of betrayal at the child for his agreement, making him giggle through the next vegetable his mother fed him. "Mama said so, so yes!"

"Oh? Mom's word is law, is it?" Reaper teased, accepting a carrot from his first husband and holding a piece of his chicken to Geno's mouth in turn. "You sure you're not just agreeing with him cause he sneaks you cookies before bed?"

A bad liar, Goth turned his head away and messily shoved a forkful of noodles into his mouth so he wouldn't have to answer.

Error shot his brother an annoyed look. "You said you stopped that!"

Geno's mouth was too full of rice for him to answer.

Like mother, like son.

From then on, dinner passed by peacefully, though everyone noticed how PJ seemed to get antsy as time went by. When Ink, full, pushed away his plate, the child eagerly jumped off his lap and began tugging at his hand. "PJ and Mama are gonna do art again now!"

"Ink, dishes are-! Oh never mind," Error muttered as PJ dragged Ink away. At the base of the stairs, Ink sent Error a wide, excited grin. "You make a mess you're cleaning it up!" 

"Of course!" came Ink's fading but amused voice. Once they got to the playroom, Ink settled down with PJ and glanced at the artwork. "Where were we?" 

"Coloring, then bringing them to life to make Gothy and Dunkle happy!" 

Ink grinned at PJ, "Ah, yes! Pink, right?" 

"Yes! Pink!" 

"Are we doing monochrome pink?" 

PJ's face twisted into thought. He mouthed _monochrome?_ to himself slowly before shaking his head, "No! More than one pink! I wanna use _all_ the pinks in the dragons!" 

"Yes, sir!" Ink nodded firmly. Stars he loved PJ... He bit back the sudden rush of tears that threatened to fall at the realization. He was so proud and so thankful and just... he loved his son so much...! 

“Ma!" PJ frowned up at him. "We both gotta color the dragons!" 

Blinking, Ink nodded. "R-right! Of course!"

In a manner that was pretty suspicious, PJ turned his back on Ink when it came to coloring his dragon. Chalking it up to his son wanting the final product to be a surprise, Ink grabbed a brush and began the task of filling his dragon in with different blends of pink. 

_Aw, this one kind of looks like Error's_. He made sure to use that one quite a bit.

Soon enough, his dragon was fully colored.

PJ still seemed to be working though, so he shrugged and sat back, giving his son time. When that time kept ticking on and nearly fifteen minutes passed; however, Ink frowned and called out to the child. "PJ?"

Freezing, the little boy slowly turned to face his parent with a sheepish grin. _Busted_ , his expression said. Before Ink could question what he had been doing, he flipped his paper around.

A total of seven dragons in various combinations of pink stared Ink down.

Ink stared back at them. His grin twitched then slowly widened. "Alright, son..." He leaned forward, tilting his head at PJ. "Which one do you want to bring out?" 

"Can I bring them all out?" 

"Let's start with one for now, okay, sweetie?" 

Looking and feeling simultaneously crestfallen and excited, PJ turned his attention to the dragons. "Which one first....?" Pointing at the biggest dragon of the seven that looked to have feathery wings in place of the webbed wings the other dragon's sported, PJ grinned. "Reaper dragon!"

Ink's hearted melted. A pink, feathery Reaper-dragon to cheer Geno up. His son was so sweet. "Do you wanna try it yourself, my little artist? Or do you want mama to show you how it's done so you can try it next time?"

Scrunching his face up in thought as he eyed his dragon, PJ puffed up with determination. "Me!"

"Okay, hon," he cooed, "put the paper down. Make sure it's nice and flat. It'll help you now, but you won't need to do it in the future once you get the hang of things. For now, we're gonna take it nice and easy and summon ourselves a dragons!"

PJ immediately worked on getting the paper as flat as he could. Ink did the same with is own paper, then waited for PJ's attention to return to him. "Alright," Ink set the tips of his fingers on the edge of his own painting. PJ mirrored the motion. He was hyper-focused on everything Ink was saying and doing, so Ink tried to make it as easy as possible. "Can you feel the watercolor and the ink in the paper, without touching it?" 

The little boy's face scrunched up slightly, but soon, he nodded. 

"Good. Remember when Daddy and I were talking you through using your magic?" 

"Yeah! A sharp bone to warn bad guys away!" 

Ink grinned, thankful his son's memory was better than his own. "Yes exactly. Remember the magic portion of that? With summoning the bone?" At PJ's nod, Ink continued, "Dip into that well and pull a couple drops of your magic out. Imagine it going to your fingertips, then into the watercolor and the ink on the dragon. Focus on just the one dragon, and imagine it in real life." Another enthusiastic nod. "Just take your time, and go for it! Like this." 

Ink dipped into his own magic, making sure to go slow so PJ could observe and understand what was going on beneath the surface. He imbued his dragon with the magic, watching the rainbow glow encompass his painting before it started to peel off the page. Slowly, it formed, with the paints and inks bleeding into a solid physical form. Finally, there was a small, pink Japanese-style dragon, with long whiskers and pretty white eyes. 

PJ's eyes glowed with excitement. "Can I?" 

"Go for it! Take your time, hon. No need to rush, okay?"

PJ scrunched up face in concentration again and started to draw up his power. He glanced over, a question in his eyes. Ink smiled at him, "You might need a little more than a few drops of magic for the first times doing this. You'll get the hang of it though!" 

Uncertainty sparked in PJ's SOUL, strong enough that Ink gently placed a hand on his son's shoulder and softened his voice, "It's okay hon! We can practice on some smaller shapes first, then move on to the dragon!"

PJ looked at the paint dragon that had settled itself around Ink's shoulders and was watching the door. He shook his head, determination flooding across his features again. He focused on his dragon and drew up more of his magic. Enough that his little hands started glowing. After a moment, the glow covered the dragon, and the space between PJ's eyebrows scrunched more. Oh so slowly, the creature peeled itself from the pages. Half of it was still lacking detail while the other half looked exactly as it did on paper, just more 3D. It stumbled a few steps until detail mirroring the drawing-side started to appear on it's other side. 

Ink watched PJ carefully, trying to judge if he was using too much energy or if he was okay. Maintaining a drawing's physical shape, especially such a complex shape for the first time was going to leave him exhausted, and Ink wasn't sure if PJ had had enough sleep yet. Worry began to seep into his joy, until PJ's own expression brightened and he looked up at Ink. "Ma!! I did it!! Look, look!"

The artist felt his own excitement and pride grow, mingling with his child's. "Good! Can you feel your magic in the dragon?" A nod. "It will be easier if you keep touching the dragon, but if you can feel it, then that's good too. Imagine them taking a step forward- yes! Yes exactly!" 

"C-can we show them? Please mommy can we? Please please?" 

At his slipping concentration, the dragon's paints started to drip, which Ink was quick to have PJ take notice and correct. When the creature solidified again, Ink nodded. "Of course! Do you want to carry the dragon or have them follow you?" 

"I wanna hold it!" 

_Wise_. Ink smiled as PJ brought the dragon to himself and picked it up. He turned a bright grin to Ink, and the two headed out the door and down the stairs. 

Ink's pink dragon in Error's face was his only indication as to what his husband and child had been doing before seeing it for himself. "Daddy!" He heard a split second later, followed by little pounding feet. 

"Don't run down the stairs, unless you can levitate!" Reaper called out.

Busy struggling to get the pink monstrosity latched around his skull off his face, Error cursed under his breath and flailed his arms before resorting to shouting Ink's name. "Get this freaking thing off me, idiot!" he demanded, hands pulling at the dragon that only cooed and curled around his head tighter. "Ink, c'mon you idiot! I can't see!"

Entering the kitchen, Ink grinned widely and silently urged the creation down to Error's shoulder instead. At the annoyed glare his first shot him, a wave of fondness filled his heart and- oh, oops.

Chirping, the dragon, sensing his love, pounced on Error's face again. 

"INK!"

"Sorry, Ru," he chuckled, willing the dragon down again while Reaper cackled at the destroyer's misfortune. 

Legs much shorter than his father's, PJ entered the kitchen a few seconds later, his own dragon in his arms. Error backed up warily, but his son bypassed him entirely, instead trotting over to where Geno still sat with a whining Goth in his lap; the child squirming as his mother fussed over the mess on his face with a napkin. 

"Dunkle!" PJ called, skidding to a stop in front of his brother and his father's brother. "Lookie!"

Blinking, the glitch tilted his head curiously and peered down at the dragon the little artist held. When he smiled, ready to compliment PJ's work, the love and excitement Ink could feel his son grew notable and-oh, oh no."PJ-"

The dragon flung itself at Geno's face with a loud, cheerful warble.

Geno startled, nearly falling out of his chair with a yelp. He too flailed his arms, and in PJ's growing panic that he was now hurting his dunkle, the dragon tightened it's hold on Geno's face. Ink walked over, trying not to laugh. He dipped into his magic to pry the dragon off. The creature chirped in confusion glancing between PJ and Ink, until the latter released it from his partial control. The dragon whirled excitedly, glancing between Geno and Reaper as if to say _look at me! Look! I'm here to make you happy!_

PJ's panic subsided as the dragon let go of Geno and now rested on his shoulders, almost in his scarf. He clung to Ink's leg, staring at the two adults before looking up at Ink. He'd felt Ink's magic guiding his own to make the dragon let go, and was trying to remember how he did it for next time, but he was distracted by wanting Geno's and Reaper's praise. 

Reaper approached Geno and the dragon, cooing at it. The dragon perked up and cooed back. 

_Oh stars that was such an adorable pink...!_ Ink grinned at Reaper. "PJ drew that one for you." Ink's own dragon was nuzzling Error under the chin, practically purring.

A bit of shy uncertainty filled PJ and he ducked his nervously. "Pink Reaper-Dragon!"

Reaper blinked and tilted his head, the dragon copying his actions from its place in Geno's scarf. "Reaper Dragon?"

"U-uh, um," PJ stuttered, glancing between his two dunkles uncertainly, "cause it's got wings like dunkle Reaper! And cause Gothy's mama likes dunkle Reaper lots."

Although he pinkened, Geno softened and sent PJ a loving smile. "Yeah, I do, PJ." he confirmed, lifting a hand and lightly stroking the dragon on the head with a finger. When it chirped loudly and nuzzled into the touch, his smile grew and he cooed, "Thanks, hon, dunkle Geno _really_ likes the Reaper dragon."

Seated on his lap, Goth reached a hand up with an awed expression and squealed when the dragon licked his hand. "So cool, bruder!"

PJ brightened, happily soaking up the praise. He tried to remember to keep control of the dragon, but having refused naps, waiting for Ink to come home, he was _exhausted_. He tugged on Ink's shorts, looking up with a pleading expression. 

Ink knelt down, resting a hand on PJ's shoulder. "Go grab our papers really quick, I'll show you how to store them so you can bring them back again later, okay?" 

Reinvigorated, PJ nodded and ran up the stairs. "DON'T-! Ughhh...." Reaper sighed. He nuzzled the dragon that cuddled close with Geno. 

Error pet Ink's dragon along the spine, watching the stairs. Just as quickly, PJ came running down them with the two papers they'd used.

When Reaper cringed, Geno chuckled quietly and pressed a hand against his cheek, his fingers lifting and lowering in three mocking pats. "There, there," he comforted, "he's perfectly safe, you worry wart"

"For _now_." The god grumbled, pushing his cheek into Geno's palm and cooing happily when the little dragon crawled it's way up Geno's shoulder and arm to disappear into his hood. "The bad habit started with you, you know. Goth probably inherited it while he was in the womb and _you kept running up and down the stairs!_ "

"I did that once."

"Once _every day_. You're a trouble maker, Gen, and now your bad habits are infecting our children."

At that very moment, Goth, wanting down, had enough of his mother being distracted by his dad and squawked loudly in displeasure. At the very bird-like noise of complaint, Geno shot his first a blank expression and let the little guy go free.

Reaper wisely said nothing in response.

Grinning at the two in amusement, Ink sat down on the kitchen floor with PJ and instructed, "Call your dragon back over here, hon."

PJ nodded, looking to his dragon to magically bring it back. It obeyed instantly, still reflecting the excitement and concentration the child had. Ink did the same, letting his dragon lick Error's chin before it came over. Ink hid his grin at Error's flustered noise and growing blush. 

"Okay, have them sit on the page and slowly let your magic leave from them. It'll be easier if you imagine them as a picture again, so they'll stick back to the page, okay? Like this," Ink focused on is dragon, willing it to curl up on the page. Ink touched it's head, slowly pulling his magic from the creature until it melted back into watercolor and ink. As the liquids soaked the page, they re-organized to look like a painting of the dragon. 

PJ stared, slowly nodding when the process was done, then tried for himself. He took his magic out too quickly, and the dragon splashed onto the page, bits flicking off onto the floor. Ink put a hand on PJ's shoulder, "Don't freak out yet hon, okay? Call the droplets back onto the page with your magic." 

He nodded and shakily did so, brightening when it actually worked. 

"And imagine the dragon as an image on the page- yes! Great work!" The dragon looked almost exactly as it did when it had been formed, though it was now flattened to a 2D print. 

Bright, PJ looked up at Ink. "I did it!" 

"Yes you did! Come here!" Ink scooped PJ up and snuggled him close. "I'm so proud of you! Great work, PJ!"

From the table, Spright watched the father-son duo with a warm smile that turned into a grin when he caught Error's eye. "...Imma teach lil Jammy how tah draw a Furby."

Error twitched violently and Geno's head snapped in their youngest brother's direction. With flames in both their gazes, they shouted, _**"NO!"**_

Spright only grinned wider, his statement neither redacted or confirmed as something he still planned to do.

"C'mon, PJ." Ink cooed when his son yawned and dropped his head on his shoulder. PJ's excitement was going strong, but the drain was getting to him and it was obvious to everyone there that he was close to falling asleep in his father's arms. "Let's get you to bed, sweetie."

"...." PJ murmured, sockets fluttering close. At Ink's questioning noise, he repeated his words, louder this time. "Can I sleep with Mommy and Daddy?"

Ink's eyes stung even as they softened. Clearing his throat to rid himself of whatever seemed lodged inside, he choked out a small, quiet, "Of course, baby."

Looking up from the papers he was nudging with his finger, Goth turned a pleading gaze to his own parents. "Gothy too?" He hadn't slept alone since his brother moved in alongside with Dunkles.

Geno smiled softly, but Reaper beat him to it, "Of course sweetie, come here!" 

Error watched his husbands pick the kids up before glancing at all the boxes and dishes still laying about. "Go-Bro" on his glasses, Spright nudged Error, "I got kitchen duties tonight bro." 

Error shot him a thankful look, but scowled, "No furbies." The younger grinned and shrugged. 

Ink and PJ were already up the stairs, changed and walking back to Ink's and Error's room by the time Error joined them. PJ crawled into the center of the bed, taking up as much space as possible.

Snorting in amusement, Error shrugged out of everything but his pants and dug through the closet for a ratty old t-shirt covered in lose threads. "Move over, baby brat." he grumbled playfully, sliding beneath the covers and nudging PJ to the side a bit. "You're _tiny_. How are you taking up so much room?"

"M'gonna grow big and strong, M-Papa." PJ informed him with a pout, taking offense to being called little. Pointing at Ink, whose new height their son never questioned, he grinned. "Gonna be tall like Mama. Taller than you!"

The day his son is taller than him is the day Error takes up Ink's mantle of protector as a full-time job. "Sure, squirt."

Grinning widely, Ink rolled onto his side so that he was facing Error and their son and teased, "You hear that, hon? Our son wants to be tall like _me_."

Error quickly shut his eyes. "I can't hear you. I'm asleep."

PJ giggled sleepily, his own eyes struggling to remain open. "Liar, liar~" he sang only for a yawn to break up his words. "Mmm, g'night Daddy. G'night Mama..."

"Goodnight, baby abomination." Error whispered, full of pink.

Ink smiled, willing his own eyes to remain open through his exhaustion. Stars, the colors... "Goodnight, my little artist."

Unsurprisingly, PJ fell asleep first, soon followed by Error who was eased into slumber by Ink's hand gently stroking up and down his back.

Ink; however, remained awake. For as long as he could, he fought off the desire to slumber. When he finally lost the battle and succumbed to the needs of his body, it was mostly due to the gentle tones of his loved ones lulling him to sleep.

He drifted off with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT CHAPTER ON SATURDAY, DUDES - 🐺


	19. A Helping Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Geno questions if Ink needs a **hand** with Aftertale.

Ink was the last one to wake up. Having been trying to plan with Dream for 3 days straight then playing with PJ all after just getting his SOUL was kind of a lot. So when he woke up, her wasn't expecting anyone to be there. 

Least of all Geno. 

The smallest husband startled when Ink opened his eyes, but smiled all the same. "Morning Ink.... you must've been really tired." 

"Where's...?" 

"Reaps, Ru and the kids are in the backyard." Geno sat up, a tiredness in his gaze, and curiosity mingled with his pinks. He seemed to be hesitating on asking Ink something.

Softly, Ink murmured, "Is everything okay, Gen?" 

A light blush dusted the smaller's face at Ink's gravelly morning voice. "W-with Aftertale..." Ink blinked, sitting up instantly. Geno fidgeted with his shirt, just over the scar. Ink glanced down, seeing absolutely no blood from his mouth or chest, but sensing that nervousness in his husband anyway.

"...Yes?" He pressed, voice soft to comfort the other as he did so. "If you have questions, then you only need to ask, honey. I won't keep anything from you."

Full of nerves, Geno lifted a hand higher and picked at a stray thread on his scarf. Catching the motion, Ink opened his arms in an invitation Geno was quick to take. Snuggled up close in Ink's arm, he let his head drop onto the taller's shoulders and quietly asked, "Is...is my world okay...?"

If only the answer to that were simple.

"Geno..." He starts, cursing himself for the cautious way his husband's name leaves his mouth when Geno flinches and curls; already thinking the worse of the situation. Whatever he's thinking most likely isn't far from the truth, but Ink wanted to ease in the topic to save him as much pain as he could. "Your world is...it's-"

"Gone?" Geno cuts in, torn between hope and fear.

Slowly, Ink shakes his head. "It's still around, honey. Dream and I did our best to fix it, but it's... I won't like, Ge, it's missing two key factors, so it's deteriorating."

Geno looked up. "Two key factors...?" 

_Stars why was this so hard...?_ Ink nodded. "The Sans there isn't there any more, which probably explains why you're not in pain anymore, but the Papyrus..." Ink let out a sigh. "Dream is trying to work on a solution, hon. He's going to call me if he needs any extra help, but right now, we're kind of at a stand still, struggling to keep the world alive." Ink rubbed Geno's arm, voice lowering. "I'm sorry Ge... I know you want us to just let it go, but-" 

"You're the Protector." Geno snuggled closer, muted dark blues bleeding into his other feelings. "I know, Inky... I... it was selfish of me..." 

"No, Ge, don't... the human in your world isn't very nice. I..." Ink sighed softly, "I think I understand that desire of yours, even if it came from a hurt place. I can only imagine what you've gone through before you met Reaper..." 

Geno's colors became somewhat out-of-focus, as if he was getting lost in memories. "...it wasn't fun..." He gripped Ink tighter. "P-Paps...?"

“From what information we have, he's fine, hon. A little angry," that was an understatement, "but fine."

At the reassurance that the skeleton who wasn't quite his brother was safe, Geno relaxed. 

He was quick to tense; however, icy blues that bleached into blinding whites bringing tensions to Ink's shoulders. _He's...he's scared. No, not just scared... He's **terrified**_. "Geno...? Honey, what is it? What's wrong?"

Eye averted from Ink in an attempt to hide the fear he forgot his husband could feel, Geno curled his fingers in his scarf and shook his head; nervous and too afraid to ask the question he had.

"Geno, please, tell me what's wrong."

At the pleading tone, Geno hesitantly questioned, "I...If...if you need a Sans or Papyrus there to steady the world..." 

"Go on..." Ink urged, gentle and soft but nervous himself.

"...Are...a-are you going to need me to g-go back? If...if you d-do, then I...I'll go." But he didn't want to. Stars, he didn't wanted to. He didn't want to. _He didn't want to. He didn't want to_.

But if Ink asked, if he thought it was best, Geno _would_.

Ink paused his comforting movement, instead staring into space. Geno watched him slowly starting to tremble as the silence dragged on. Ink closed his eyes, murmuring almost to himself, "If this were happening a couple weeks ago, or even last year, I would probably have dragged you back myself, but..." he opened his eyes again, looking at Geno with such a tenderness. "Hon, I can't ask you to do that," a shy grin appeared on the artist's face, though he kept the smaller's gaze, "I don't want you to go back. Dream and Blue and I will figure something out, so just worry about the kids and your idiot husbands, okay?" 

Geno choked on a laugh, tears starting to flow down his face. "Y-you just called yourself a-an idiot.." 

Ink nuzzled him, gently wiping his tears. He rested his forehead on the other, smiling, "Yeah, but I'm glad to be one of **your** idiot husbands..."

Geno's tearful smile wobbled more and more until it could no longer hold the happy curve it sported. Lifting his hands to his face, he covered his eyes, glitch and all, and sobbed. "T-thank you, Ink." He whispered, guiltily relieved that he wouldn't have to go back. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Blinking back tears of his own, the artist pressed his teeth to Geno's head and soothingly rubbed his back. "Awww, you don't need to thank me, honey."

Tucked under his chin, Geno sniffled and continued repeating the words until he cried himself into a much needed slumber.

The moment his breathing slowed, Ink lifted his gaze to the miniscule crack in the door. "You can come in now, Ru." he whispered, using the corner of their blanket to wipe the tears from Geno's face. "He's asleep."

Unsurprised that his first knew he was there, Error pushed open the door and made his way into the room. Careful not to disturb his brother, he took a seat on the edge of the bed and watched the two with an unreadable expression, though Ink saw his feelings clear as day. 

"You know," he met Ink's eyes, "Reaper would have killed you if you said yes."

"Just Reaper?"

"I know better than any one else in this house how you think." Error claimed, truth in the words. "I wouldn't have been happy, but I would have understood. Reaper loves you, but Geno is _his_ Ink. His first. That's special like you and I are special to one another and he would have killed half his heart by killing you if you decided to put Geno back in that world."

"...I would have. If I...if i didn't have my soul, then I would have, Ru."

"I know." There's anger behind the words, but Ink doesn't let it hurt him too much. Like he said, Error would have understood, but he wouldn't have been _happy_. Not being willing to kill Ink over his duties didn't mean Error would have sat by and let his brother be put back into danger. "Do you mind sticking around with him? The kids want to go to a park so Reaps and I are going to take them. Res should be home soon, but Spright won't be back until dinner. If you have any business to attend to though, then we'll just take him with us."

Ink hesitated, with the thought that Dream might call when everyone was gone, but he nodded. "Yeah..." he adjusted his hold on Geno, hugging him to himself with one hand so he could reach for Error with his other. Error took his hand, tilting his head slightly. Ink murmured, "Where'd you go...?" 

"PJ was literally jumping up and down on the bed this morning and you didn't even budge, so we had breakfast," Error squeezed Ink's hand, a slight smirk gracing his face. "Why, were you wanting something this morning?" 

Ink smirked back, "Yeah, to hold my little spoon." 

Error snatched his hand back, "Dumbass." 

"Noooo," the artist pouted. "Fine! I'll be the little spoon tonight!" 

"If Dream doesn't call." 

The lightened mood from their flirting instantly crashed. Ink looked to Geno, quiet. 

The destroyer frowned, guilt flickering in his SOUL. "Hey, Kiki, I didn't-" 

"You **did**. To a degree, but it's okay, Ru," he smiled slightly at Error. "That just means you're gonna have to make it up to me somehow later," a wink had the destroyer rolling his eyes. 

"Insatiable bastard." But he was smiling. Just slightly. He glanced to Geno before looking back at Ink. "If it were Dream-?" 

"It isn't Dream's call," Ink lied. _Not **fully** Dream's call, anyway..._ "Go, Ru. We'll still be here when you get back. Just be careful please."

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Error nodded. "I will. _We_ will. Reaper's has been a little on edge since," he nodded to his brother, "so there will be two sets of eyes on the kids. Try to get some more rest, okay? You're not going to be seducing anyone later if you look like _that_."

"If I look like what?"

"Like you'd sooner fall asleep during sex than finish a round. Seriously though, squid." Error's small smile shifted into a look of serious concern. "Try to relax while you can."

"Daddy!" PJ called from downstairs, his voice just loud enough to reach their bedroom.

Ink reached out and pulled Error down for a kiss. "You should get going, Ruru. We'll see you later. I love you."

Pink wrapped around Error like a warm hug. "I love you too, idiot."

Watching as his husband left the room, Ink smiled and relaxed back into the pillows...

...but didn't sleep.

 _Just try to get inside today, Nightmare_. He silently dared, eyes falling close as he searched out the four bright arrays of color leaving the house.

He pulled the blanket up to their shoulders and held Geno close. Even after sensing his family leave, and those emotions fading, he didn't sleep. _Relax? I can relax!_

But his mind wouldn't stop. 

He was going through every piece of data and information from the past three days with Dream and Blue. He was thinking about his kids. He was thinking about Endure, and the nightmares. He was thinking about Aftertale, and all the other monsters still living there. 

_It isn't right that they might die... they won't really know, but... but that doesn't make it right._

His mind kept cycling between these thoughts, only being taken out when he sensed Respite return home, then his husbands and kids. At the sound of the door closing again, Geno stirred, moving closer to Ink and mumbling into his chest. Ink rubbed his back, smiling but keeping his sockets closed.

Footsteps could be heard running down the hall. Small, but loud. The kids, probably. 

Just as they passed by the bedroom door, twin shrieks of joy rang out, fully startling Geno out of the nap he was slowly waking from. Seconds later, the door a room over slammed shut and the glitch groaned. "Why did I want another one of those?"

Ink, feigning sleep, struggled to hide a wide grin. _Geno wanted another baby?_

Thinking that his husband was still asleep, Geno yawned and tried to wiggle out of Ink's embrace without "waking" him.

Unable to help himself, Ink made a noise of protest and tightened his hold on Geno. The glitch paused, sighing to himself. He peered up at Ink, muttering, "You're just as clingy as Reaps..."

Ink murmured, "You're just so snuggable." 

"...You're not asleep are you?" 

"Hmmm... nope." 

"How long...?" 

Ink cracked a socket open and smiled at Geno. "That's my secret, my dear~."

Narrowing his eye, Geno stared at his husband. In the end, he decided that if Ink heard his comment he most likely would have said something by now. "How long have you been awake?" he asked, melting into Ink's arms. _Might as well get comfortable_.

"A while now." he answered vaguely, but not dishonestly. "Are you hungry at all? There's probably leftovers from last night. Actually, knowing Ru, he and Reaps most likely stopped somewhere on the back for more food."

"On the way back...?"

Oh yeah, Geno was already asleep by then. "They took the kids to the park for awhile."

When Geno started to tense up, Ink was quick to add, "It's really them who are back, Ge." 

He nodded slowly, sinking into his arms yet again. He murmured, "When'd you get taller...?" 

Ink chuckled, comfortable with Geno in his arms even after hours of not moving. "After my SOUL. I guess... Life was just as surprised as I was." 

"It's nice..." 

The artist let out a soft hum of appreciation, "Thanks hon..." he stretched his legs out, hearing all sorts of joints pop. "Oh no." 

Geno froze. "What? What is it?!" 

"I... might need a _hand_ getting up." 

Geno sat up quickly, looking Ink over, until he saw Ink's arm, dislocated at the elbow, drop between them. He yelped, scrambling off the bed, "INK, WHAT THE FUCK?! Are you okay?!?!" 

Laughing, Ink picked his arm back up and popped it back into place. "It's okay!" When he felt Geno's genuine nausea and concern, Ink stood and approached Geno, "Oh stars Geno I'm sorry I thought you knew I could do that-" 

"You _idiot!_ " Geno shoved Ink back by his chest, making him stumble and sit down on the bed. The glitch crossed his arms over his own chest and scowled fiercely at Ink. "Do you pull that prank on Error?!" 

"Heh, maybe once or twice? When we're feeling _handsy_ , or he needs some encouragement to keep _one foot in front of the other?_ " 

Despite himself, Geno started to giggle. "That- that's horrible." 

Ink brightened. "I paid _an arm and a leg_ for his affection!" 

Geno covered his growing snickers with a hand. "S-stop it." 

"I gotta keep him on his _toes_. It's not an easy weight to _shoulder_ , but I manage!"

Laughing, Geno turned his back on Ink to hide his amused grin. "I wash my _hands_ of you!"

Snorting, Ink laughed and reached after Geno with outstretched arms, though the glitch couldn't see them. "No, I'm sorry! Maybe we started this conversation out on the wrong _foot_."

"Ink!" Geno shrieked, stumbling due to his laughter. "Oh, stars, please have mercy. I can't take much more of this."

" _Chest_ be honest with me, Ge, is it best to be _a head_ , or _behind_ in a conversation?" Ink stood and wrapped his arms around Geno from behind, snuggling him close. "I'd like to know, _butt_ only if you're willing to tell~!"

Unable to hold himself up with his laughter weakening his legs, Geno leaned back into Ink and tilted his head back to grin up at the tall asshole. "Talk about some serious _rib ticklers_."

Ink's grin stretched into something devious. "Rib _tickler_ , eh?"

Geno's eye widened. "No. No, don't you-! Ink, no!" He shouted, squirming with his husband's arms tightened around him. "Don't you dare, asshole!"

"Ge~ no~" Ink sang.

With a pop, Geno appeared by the door. "NO!" Laughing, he swung it open and took off running down the hall, heading towards the stairs in order to escape Ink who cackled and was quick to follow.

Reaper looked up quickly, his stair-senses tingling. "NO RUNNING ON THE STAIRS GENO!" 

"INK'S GOING TO TICKLE ME!" Geno leapt onto the bannister, sliding all the way down. 

"What?!" Ink laughed, bolting down the stairs after him, "GENO~! COME BA~ACK~!" Ink tripped on the second to last step, but managed to jump the last one and save himself from tumbling into the wall. 

Error touched just below his eyes in warning, "Seriously?! Both of you are going to teach the kids bad manners!!" 

Ink shot Error a heated look and grinned dirtily. _Would you teach me some good ones, then?_ The look said.

Face erupting with color, Error choked and shot him a wavering glare that was _meant_ to warn him to behave but just succeeded in making Ink's filthy smile stretch. "Go _tickle_ Geno."

Crying out in protest, the glitch quickly dove behind Reaper and clutched at the back of his robes for safety. "Error, you're supposed to be on _my_ side!"

"Like hell I am! I'm on _my own_ side. Ink, go get him!"

Ink peered at Geno and Reaper. The god instantly understood the artist's intent and, within seconds, all three husbands popped into existence by Error and started tickling him.

Instantly, Error screeched, the sound breaking with high, glitching laughter as he weakly tried to bat their hands away. "No, no, no!" he wheezed, tears filling his sockets from the force of his laughter. "Get away y-you...you f-fuckers!"

Laughing out of good humor, Geno grinned at his brother widely and aimed for the spot just under his arms. "SUFFER!"

Overwhelmed, Error dropped to his knees, cackling.

Ink couldn't even continue tickling Error as he was busy snorting with his own laughter. Reaper was grinning brightly, glad that Geno seemed to be feeling better. The god reached Geno and started tickling him, to which his glitch squeaked and tried to get away. Once the attention was off Error, the destroyer turned on Ink. 

"Oh no!" Ink laughed, backing away on his hands and knees. 

"Oh _yes_ , you ass," Error was grinning. He pulled Ink back by his ankle and returned the tickle favor. Ink squealed and wheezed with laughter. He tried getting away again, just to pull Reaper down tot he floor with them and try tickling him. 

"Sorry, I'm not tickl-HA!" 

Geno took advantage when Reaper was distracted, and found his sensitive tickle spot on the back of his ribs.

"GeNooOOoooOOOoo!" Reaper cried, voice rising and falling in pitch and he tried desperately to get away. As a last ditch effort, he summoned his wings and snickered when all three of his husbands yelped, feathers smacking them all in the face and sending them sprawling flat on their backs. "I win!"

Still panting and wheezing, the three looked to each other, then dogpiled onto Reaper. They were careful of his wings, but instantly started tickling him until his squawking laughter were just wheezes. 

At that point, the four were breathless and sprawled in various positions on each other on the floor. They glanced to each other then started laughing all over again. Their clothes were all rumpled and pieces of feathers and strings seemed to be stuck to everyone.

 _Flash_.

Freezing, the four slowly turned to look at the door.

Spright grinned at them, expression one of amusement as he waved his phone in their direction cheerfully. "Say cheese~" he directed, three more rapid flashes blinding the skeletons on the floor. "Ah, dat last one is gonna look good on da fridge."

Error was the first to jump up and chase after him. "NO YOU DON'T, DAMMIT! GET BACK HERE!" 

Spright laughed and bolted up the stairs, slamming the door to his room shut once he was safely inside. 

Ink looked up at Reaper. "Oh, so you're not gonna yell at Spright for running up the stairs?" 

"What's the point?" he grumbled. "None of you listen to me!" 

"Sure we do~!" Geno grinned at him, leaning closer to his head to murmur, " _More more more?_ " 

Reaper blushed brightly before a considering look crossed his face. "Speaking of," He captured Geno in a hug, grinning at him. "Ink and I still owe you a _good time_ , Geno~!" 

Ink perked up, grinning. "Oh yeah, that's right!"

Eye widened and face going red, Geno stuttered as he weakly pushed at Reaper's chest in a poor attempt to free himself from the god's arms. "T-the kids are home! _And_ awake!"

"They had a long day," Reaper purred, "I'm sure they'll be out like a light soon."

"And we all know nothing short of an explosion wakes them once they're out..." Ink murmured, sliding up from behind and nuzzling the back of Geno's skull. "Besides, aren't _you_ the one always telling us to take responsibility for our actions? You still haven't done so for keeping very important information from us~"

Flustered, Geno looked between the two unsurely.

Becoming somewhat uncertain himself, considering what had happened to Geno earlier, Reaper spoke, "We'll go at your pace, Gen." 

"Th-th-th-the three of u-us...? How does that..?" 

Reaper startled, a blush flooding his face. _He was thinking about how it would work and not...?_ His grin came back now as he was thinking about it too. 

Ink grinned at the both of them. "It won't be hard, but _we_ will be."

Geno choked just as Reaper broke down with laughter. "Ink!" he chastised, skull a bright, glowing red.

Unashamed, the artist wiggled his brows at his smallest husband and winked. "Yes, that is one of the names you'll be screaming." He had to force down the laugh that wanted to form at the way Geno's pinks for them reddened. Not with anger, but with a very specific type of _interest_. "It'll work out fine, Gen," he promised, "but if you're not ready, then we don't have to do this now."

Geno found that, yeah, he was ready. His thoughts about wanting another kid aside, it felt like it had been a while since he let himself enjoy his husband's company like this, let alone two! If he was honest, he was... incredibly curious and _excited_. "Not in my kitchen. The kids eat here." 

Reaper grinned. Ink softened at the flare of true love and the growing shades of lust. "Where?" 

Ink rested his head on Geno's shoulder, taking Reaper's hand in his own. "Your bed is bigger."

Geno glanced at Ink, " What about Error...?"

Ink's grin, though heated, carried an undeniable hint of mischief. "Rethinking your stance on that foursome?"

"You're fucking _dead_ to me if you are, Glitch Face."

Although Reaper and Geno both jumped, Ink's grin only grew as he calmly slid his gaze to the stairs where his first stood, leaning on the rail. "You say that, but I see some very interesting colors around you, Ru."

Confused, Geno silently mouthed _'colors...?'_ to himself as he watched his brother fluster. Then, his eyes widened. "Oh, _fuck,_ " he hissed, sounding distressed, "I forgot about the empath thing."

"...You're a dumbass." Error grumbled, no real heat in the words. It wasn't surprising a few things would slip Geno's mind considering the last few days he had. "Try not to make too much noise, assholes. If I can't drown you out with the television, then I'm putting an end to all your nasty bullshit."

"Still see those colors, Ru!" Ink teased.

Color brightened on Error's face. "We're not having a foursome!"

"Not with _that_ attitude~!" 

Reaper was chuckling. He stood, pulling the others to their feet and started heading upstairs with them. Passing Error, Reaper purred, "If a foursome is out, another threesome is still possible~!" 

Ink grinned at the still-brightening colors and blush as he kissed Error in passing. 

They continued to Reaper's and Geno's room, with Error pointing a finger at them, "I-I'M NOT JOINING! A-AND DON'T BE TOO LOUD, DAMMIT!"

Ink's and Reaper's laughter could still be heard after the bedroom door clicked shut.


	20. Good Husbands (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Geno gets the afternoon of his life, and Ink and Reaper finally get that payback from chapter 4.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the chapter implies, this is NSFW for explicit sexual intercourse, though there will be a **Trigger Warning** at the beginning regarding talk about rape. The intercourse itself is completely consensual! 
> 
> And it's a long chapter today, so enjoy!

“Error always makes the cutest expressions when he’s embarrassed.” Ink said with a dreamy expression that was quick to turn into a leer as his eyes settled on Geno. “You know,” he began in a sensual drawl, stalking closer while Reaper, curious, leaned back against the door to watch, “I haven’t gotten a chance to see what kind of expressions you make, Geno. Not anything a little more _personal_ , at least.”

“That’s right…” Reaper murmured, sockets lidding as he failed to recall any moments where things got intimate between the artist and the glitch. “That’s kind of a shame, Inky. Gen makes the prettiest face when he’s right on the edge.”

“Does he now?” Ink purred, smirk growing when the low, seductive tone of his voice sent a shiver down Geno’s spine. “You wanna show me, baby?” he asked, capturing Geno’s chin with his fingers and angling his head back. “You know, Reaps and I share details every now and then. I know exactly what I need to do to get that look on your face.”

“E-Error-!” Geno stuttered, “Error is g-going to hear us a-and get annoyed at the n-noise.”

Ink smirked, “Not if you don’t make a sound…” he murmured, leaning in to close the gap between their— 

_Geno was scared_.

The icy blue-white of his fear registered mere moments before Geno wrenched himself away from Ink, the glitch’s singular visible socket wide with panic as he scrambled as far back as he could get; going so far so quickly that his legs bumped into the bed and sent him toppling back. 

“No, n-no, you’re...y-you’re not-!” Geno whimpered, scooching away until his back hit the headboard and he had nowhere else to run. “Y-you...y-you’re not...not…”

“Nightmare.” Ink gently yet pointedly cut in, sensual drawl gone as he attempted to soothe his smallest husband. “Geno, honey, I’m not _Nightmare_ , but I _am_ Ink. You’re fine, honey. You’re _safe_. Look, Reaps is right there by the door.” 

When Geno’s pinprick of an eyelight glanced in Reaper’s direction, Ink fell silent. He didn’t turn away from Geno, but he gave the scared skeleton time to rake over the god with his eyes before speaking again when the glitch’s gaze returned to his; still frightened, but a little less suspicious. “He wouldn’t let you near someone if he thought they were going to hurt you, hon. You know that, but if you’re still scared, if you still don’t think it’s me, then you can ask me a question. Any question, hon. I’ll answer.”

“...W-what-?” Geno swallowed, “What did I tell you I wanted next when we cuddled before we all went to Life’s? A boy or a girl?”

Ink froze. Geno wanted a baby? He-!

His elation drained away faster than it came. “I-” he sent a helpless expression Reaper’s way only to receive a confused look in return. “Gen, hon, I… I don’t know. I mean, my memory has always been bad—you know that—but, Ge, I don’t remember that conversation, o-or even cuddling? I don’t… stars, I’m sorry, hon, but I really, really don’t know. I...can’t answer, Geno.”

Remarkably, Geno relaxed. “It didn’t happen…” he admitted, toying with a pillow he dragged in front of himself for protection. “I...I didn’t know what to ask so I made something up. _H-he_ , um, N-nightmare, I mean, he heard me talking about it though, so...so if you knew…”

Reaper stepped forward, abandoning his perch by the door in favor of moving in closer to his faintly trembling first. “If Ink knew the answer, then you would have known it wasn’t him.”

Gaze lowering, Geno slowly nodded. “No one else would have known…” Quieter, he murmured, “I...I’m sorry. I just-! You said- and it was-!” Picking at his scarf, Geno clenched his socket shut and exhaled shakily. “You said the same exact thing he said before he kissed me. T-that...that we wouldn’t disturb anyone _if I didn’t make a sound._ ”

Ink blinked and found the world around him painted red. That fucker-!

When Geno flinched back with a sharp rise in white, he forced himself to calm down. “Geno…” he started, trailing off unsurely. He didn’t want to make things worse for the smaller skeleton by pushing, but remaining in the dark, unaware of the landmines around them could potentially do more harm than good. Ink didn’t want to risk doing or saying anything else that could send the glitch into a panic. “What…” still, he hesitated. He really, really didn’t want to upset Geno further.

Casting Ink an understanding look, Reaper took a seat near the edge of the bed and turned so that he was facing Geno. “C’mere, honey.” the god invited, arms falling open as he offered his first a safe haven in his embrace. At Geno’s hesitation, he smiled softly and let out a small musical trill. Doing it again, he shaped the noise around the glitch’s name so that his call of “Geno” was less a spoken word and more of a bird’s song. “Come on, Gen. It’s okay.”

The bed Reaper and Geno shared wasn’t really much larger than the one he and Error slept in. It wasn’t exactly modest, but it also wasn’t obnoxiously oversized either. And yet, with as small and frightened as he was, Geno managed to make the small stretch of space between him and the god look miles long.

Moving slow, Ink took a seat next to Reaper and leaned against his cloak wearing husband with his own arms outstretched. “It’ll be okay, Ge,” he promised, “it’s just us. It’s just your Reapsy and your Inky. We won’t hurt you.” 

In a lot of ways, Geno resembled an untrusting, skittish kitten making their way into the lap of someone new; slow and nervous, and just a little scared even as he sought out the contact his husbands offered. Although it was clear his intention was to slide into Reaper’s arms, the gitch hesitated at the last second before settling onto Ink’s lap instead. 

Instead of reacting poorly like one might expect, Reaper dropped his arms and merely angled himself so that Geno, though seated in Ink’s arms, was sandwiched between them protectively.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it more than you already have,” tone apologetic, Reaper pressed a kiss to the side of Geno’s skull, “but can you tell us what else he did, baby? Inky and I don’t want to scare you, Gen. We don’t want to hurt you anymore than that bastard already has.”

Toying with his scarf, Geno shuddered; the memory of his experience filling him with discomfort and more of the stubborn fear that refused to leave. “...It...it didn’t get that far. He just… he-!” Hating how helpless he felt, Geno curled his hands into fists and dug his fingertips into his palms. “He was acting like _you_ , Reaps. W-whined that he was ditching work because he missed me and said…” he faltered, “...s-said that he oughta _punish me_ for calling him an idiot. S-spanked me a bit while saying it. I… it wasn’t anything abnormal. I thought- I mean, it just seemed like...l-like _you_ wanted to…”

Reaper’s voice came out soft and understanding, but Ink could see the red within him boiling over. Had the anger been for any other reason, he might have considered the god’s control over his voice and expression impressive. At the moment, he was too busy trying to keep his symbols from flashing red to admire it. 

“You thought it was just me starting one of our _games._ ” Reaper murmured, filling in the blanks of the glitch’s sentence and wishing nothing more than to be able to hop back in time to cleave off the hands of the fucker who dared to touch his husband in such a way.

Their games were hot and filthy and _rough_ , but they’re built on a foundation of love, trust, and, most importantly, _consent_ ; all of which were thrown out the window the _second_ the asshole wearing Reaper’s face slithered inside their home and fooled Geno into thinking he was his husband.

Stars, if Reaper hadn’t _actually_ left work early that day…

At the ripple of fear disturbing Reaper’s red, Ink reached out and took one of the god’s hands in his own. “Is that when he said it? The, um, the thing I just said?” Ink questioned, thumbing over Reaper’s knuckles while holding Geno close.

Nodding, Geno quietly continued informing them of his poor experience. “He kissed me after and I…” the small spark of pleasure Ink saw was fuzzy. Tainted, too. The corruption of blue and white and the sharp, foul color of disgust overcame the small splotch of color and Ink realized that it’s an old emotion. Geno was recalling his previous reaction and shaping it into something new with the knowledge he now had. “I liked it.” Geno admitted, voice breaking slightly. “It was… he was taking his time. I’ve kissed you more times than I can count, Reaps, but he… He kissed me like I had to be discovered and _I liked it_ because I thought it was you trying to be romantic.”

“Gen…”

“I thought I was kissing you…” Both artist and god rushed to wipe the tears that began dripping down Geno’s face. Their hands overlapped as they worked together to catch every precious, heartbreaking drop. “I thought it was _you_ , Reaps. Stars, I...I was so gross. I let myself get tongued by a random fucking creep and I sat on his dick _moaning_ while he messed with my cut and sucked a fucking _hickey_ into my neck. H-he…he was going to fuck me. He was going to fuck me and I was going to like it, too.”

 _Rape_ , Ink thought, stroking the back of Geno’s skull when the smaller skeleton turned his face to hide in his chest. When his eyes meet Reaper’s void stare, he saw the rage sending his symbols flashing reflected in the darkness of the god’s eyes. It’s clear Reaper thoughts are similar to his own. _Not fuck, not have sex with… Nightmare was going to rape Geno and make him live with the knowledge that he would have enjoyed it_. 

“I f-feel dirty…” Geno sobbed.

Reaper had been married to Geno for years while Ink, though a sporting a newer relationship, had new insight into the smaller skeleton’s emotions due to his gifts. In their own ways, they know Geno. In similar ways, they love him.

Neither were entirely sure how to _help him_ though, and it stung.

“You’re not dirty, Gen.” Reaper reassured, calling his wings out to cocoon both the artist and their glitch. “Nothing that happened is a stain on your character, hon. The _second_ you realized that wasn’t me, any enjoyment you were tricked into feeling was gone and _you got yourself away from him_. Sent that bastard crashing over the sofa, too.”

“If you hadn’t shown up I-”

What ifs would only further Geno’s torment. Deciding to nip them in the bud now, Ink cut in with a firm yet soothingly spoken, “But he _did_ , baby.

“But _if_ he-”

This time, Reaper interrupted, his wings fluttering around them with restrained emotion. “But I did, Gen. Just like Inky said, I did show up and nothing else was able to happen. We can’t stop you from feeling bad about the things that did go on—you have all the right in the world to be upset—but please don’t beat yourself up over the what-could-have-been that never was.”

“...Okay.” Geno agreed, a little unsure of how well he’ll keep himself from stressing over the what-ifs, but still willing to try. “Okay, Reapsy. Inky.” As he agreed; however, he didn’t relax. 

His husbands noticed. “Ge…?” Ink hedged.

“I…I still…” Torn between mortification and humiliation, the shortest skeleton looked between the two with an expression that looked a little lost. _It’s gross, isn’t it? Wanting to- and after talking about **that** , no less_…

Discreetly, Ink exchanged a look with Reaper. _He wants something_ … And you didn’t have to be an empath to figure that out, either. “Honey, you don’t need to be afraid of sharing anything with us. Reaps and I aren’t going to judge you, so if you have a question or something you want to say, just tell us.”

“Can...c-can we still…?” Geno can’t say it. Can’t finish compiling the words to ask. He came up here because he wanted them. Ink, Reaper… he wanted to fool around with the people he loves and feel good with them, but his stupid panic ruined it.

“Go on, hon. Tell us what you want.” Reaper murmured, containing the lick of heat he felt low, low, _low_ at the thought of what he’s _sure_ Geno wanted to ask for. His own arousal isn’t what’s important here though. It’s Geno. If his first felt brave enough to try for sex so soon after the incident, then Reaper wanted to reward that bravery. Wanted to worship his small but _strong_ first love. “Both of us, or just one...it doesn’t matter, darling. We’ll give you whatever you need, even if it’s just some space.”

Space was the last thing Geno wanted. “I...I want to have sex.” It’s far more upfront than he has ever been about his more sensual desires, but he doesn’t know how else to ask for what he needs. _Kiss me, touch me… Replace every trace he left behind with your love_.

Luckily, his husbands _know_ him. 

They heard every word he couldn’t bring himself to say. “Okay.” Ink said, echoed by Reaper. “Do you want us both, hon? Don’t worry,” he comforted when Geno began to look uncertain, “I know how to make it work.”

Flushed with embarrassment, Geno nodded. “Y-yeah.”

Sliding the hand cupping the back of Geno’s skull to his cheek, Ink smiled as he questioned, “In that case, can I kiss you, honey? Can we touch you, too?”

“Yeah,” Geno repeated, the word breathier than before, “to both things, I mean. You can, um, kiss. A-and touch. Um, you c-can do _other_ t-things too.”

Well, that was an invitation neither of them planned to turn down.

Smile tinged with _heat_ , Ink leaned in and pressed his teeth to Geno’s; the kiss soft and sweet, yet still so that the smaller skeleton could choose if and when it deepened. _Give him some control. Let him know we’ll go at **his** pace._

When it became apparent that the choice of going further was up to him, Geno’s blush deepened as his embarrassment grew but, ultimately, his socket fluttered shut, his head angling as he pressed his teeth more firmly against Ink’s. Briefly, in a shy plead for more, his grin unsealed just enough so that his tongue could flick across the artist’s teeth, the request for more clear with the fast, slick touch. 

While Ink parted his mouth to give Geno the _more_ he wanted, Reaper watched; entranced. _That’s_ … Hidden within the warm cavern of the glitch’s mouth, Ink’s tongue did something with Geno’s that made him whimper his pleasure. _Oh, fuck. That’s actually really, really hot_.

“C’mon, Reaps.” Ink murmured, practically speaking the words into another kiss with how close he remained to Geno’s parted smile. Gaze heated, he threw a look the god’s way; symbols slowly pinkening as they flashed through various shapes. “Help me take care of our Gen.” _Join in_ , the tempting look said.

Enticed, the god pressed a kiss to the side of each of their skulls before his mouth settled on Geno’s jaw. Trailing lower, he took his time with pressing small, affection filled kisses to every bit of bone he encountered until the worn red of a familiar scarf brushed against his teeth.

 _Careful_ , Reaper reminded himself, humming appreciatively when Ink angled Geno’s head further to the side during their next kiss to make more room for Reaper’s attentions. _Gen will find a way to kill me if this gets torn…_ Kissing Geno’s neck through the scarf just once, he slid his teeth a little higher and mouthed at a spot just under Geno’s jaw while his hands worked on carefully unraveling the long, torn strip of red fabric.

 _It’s different_ , Geno noted distractedly, thoughts fuzzed by the tongue intertwined with his own and the pleasurable sensation of a slick pressure against his neck. Overwhelmed as he was slowly becoming, he still noted the practiced yet careful way his first dealt with his scarf and opened his socket just in time to hazily catch Reaper pulling away to place the folded fabric on the table nearest to the bed. _He’s always so careful with it…_ Nothing like the way he handled his—

“A-ah!” Geno moaned into his kiss with Ink, startled out of his thoughts by the sly fingers that crept into his shorts that were now teasing at sensitive, lace covered bones. _“Ink!”_ he whimpered, working around a questing tongue to get the name out.

Panting slightly, Ink pulled away and met Geno’s gaze. “Is this okay?” he questioned, fingers light as they brushed over subtle crevices. When Geno trembled at the touch and nodded, his sockets lidded and he purred, “What about _this?”_ before seeking out the holes in Geno’s sacrum and grinding against one through the lace.

Geno’s keened out _“Yes”_ was swallowed as Reaper stole a kiss for himself.

 _Oh, stars_. **This** was the way Reaper kissed: deep and practiced, like Geno was a favored taste that Reaper knew well but could never get enough of and still eagerly sought. Every stroke of his tongue against his own, every prod at his mouth and teeth… It was familiar but no less intense for it. And paired with the hand in his shorts… _This is how I die_ , Geno moaned, hands raising to cup Reaper’s face and pull him in further as he felt himself tingle and flush with beneath Ink’s touch. _They’re going to drown me in these sensations_ … Honestly, he didn’t mind the thought.

When Geno shifted on his lap to fall into Reaper’s next kiss easier, Ink caught sight of the mark the previous angle hid from him. Although it was far from the bright, angry red from just a few days ago, the damning evidence of Geno’s trauma was still clear as day against the white of his bone. _Unacceptable_ …

Pulling his hand free of the smaller skeleton’s shorts, Ink hefted Geno up and out of his lap and onto Reaper’s. Impressively, their kiss didn’t break, though that soon changed when Ink placed his parted mouth over the glaring mark and _sucked_.

“O-oh!” Geno gasped, arching into Reaper’s chest as his head jerked back with a moan. “I-Inky, that...t-that’s-!” squirming with pleasure, he let his words trail into a high, breathy noise that told both his lovers that whatever “that” was, it was something _good_.

 _Smart_ , Reaper mentally praised, working out just what Ink’s goal was as the artist nipped and sucked at Geno’s neck near viciously. “My turn!” he said cheerfully, dipping down and mouthing at the new, larger mark when Ink caught his eye, winked, and broke away in favor of rising onto his knees and tilting Geno’s head back for a slightly awkward upside-down kiss. _Geno’s going to throw a fit when he sees how big this is turning out to be_ … But no matter the size, _their_ mark was better than that asshole’s.

While Reaper bit and licked and sucked to ensure that no trace of Nightmare remained, Ink worked on removing Geno’s hoodie, the lack of visibility a wonderful excuse for his hands to roam across the gltich’s clothed ribs. “I need a second, Reaps.”

With a pout, the god pulled himself away from Geno, though his pout was quickly exchanged for an amused yet pleased expression when he took note of the shorter skeleton’s dazed expression. “Cute.” he complimented, nuzzling his cheekbone against Geno’s, “You want to turn and face Ink, honey?”

Geno’s shirt taken care of, Ink began working on his own clothing, perfectly aware that all his layers were a difficult barrier to get around. He had practice though, so by the time Geno shakily raised to his knees and shifted on Reaper’s lap so that he was seated with his back towards the god and his legs thrown over Reaper’s own crossed ones, Ink was already down to just his shorts.

Ink had to be honest, the explosion of red across Geno’s face and the _heated_ matching hue in his colors when the glitch saw his bare, tattooed ribs was very, _very_ gratifying.

“Like what you see?” he couldn’t help but tease, the smirk he spoke the words with warming into a smile at Geno’s absent nod and the embarrassed squeak that followed when he realized what he just did. “Stars, I don’t think cute is enough, Reapsy. He’s downright _adorable._ ”

“Like a kitten.” Pressing his chest closer to Geno’s back, Reaper tilted his head to peer over the smaller’s shoulder. He crooned as he skimmed his fingertips across the scarred, crack ribs Geno’s shirtlessness revealed. “A pretty, _half naked_ kitten.” He murmured, lightly tracing the outer edges of the scarred slash across Geno’s ribcage.

“Oh, _that’s_ definitely a very _pretty_ look…” Ink purred, admiring the way Geno’s face reflected the pleasure Reaper’s near-ticklish touch brought him.

“You g-guys are _embarrassing_ …” Geno complained, shuddering and pressing into the god’s too-light touch. “R-Reaps…” he whimpered, pleading for something a little firmer.

When pink began trailing after Reaper’s fingers across Geno’s ribs, Ink shivered in delight. His magic is reacting more and more… Curiously, he reached his own hand out and thumbed over a deeper groove cut into Geno’s ribs. A moan and a burst of color across Geno’s bones rewarded the touch. _Heh, it’s like we’re painting him with pinks and reds_. Fitting, considering the meld of loving and lustful colors Ink could see around the glitch. _He’s almost there_.

“Still feeling okay, Gen?” Reaper murmured, speaking into the side of Geno’s skull while he kissed his way back down his neck. Big and splotchy, their combined love bite was noticeable, but looking a little lonely. Reaper planned to fix that. “Are you feeling _good_ , honey?”

“I...I a-am _not_ answering t-that.” Geno growled, eyelight blown wide and fuzzy around the edges. Breath hitching at another sharp nip to his neck complimented by- oh, stars, “I-Ink,” he keened, arching into the tongue shamelessly outlining his slash scar. Not one to be outdown, Reaper gave a harsher bite to his neck and sucked hard, relentless until he dragged out a whimpered, _“R-Reaper!”_ from Geno.

 _Just a little more_ … Reaper thought, catching Ink’s eye with a pointed look as he lifted Geno just enough for- Ah, good. Ink got the hint and was getting Geno’s shorts of- oh. Oh, _those_ were- “You are _sinful_ , Gen.” he rasped, wishing he had a better view. “Absolutely fucking _sinful_.”

Ink looked as wrecked as Reaper sounded. “I knew I felt lace, but _holy shit_ , hon.” There was _no way_ Geno knew they were having sex today, right? _Right?_ “Stars, Reaps, how do you ever let him out of bed when you know he’s wearing _these_ under his clothes?”

‘These’ being the sheer, powder blue panties that looked like they wouldn’t hide a damn thing with how easily see-through they were.

Stitched into the revealing material was white lace meant to accentuate the curve of Geno’s ass and ‘cover’ his sex that matched the pretty lace trim around the waistband and legs of the panties. Admittedly, they were cute, but the revealing material paired with what looked to be a very, well, _cheeky_ cut added a sexy flair made all the more sensual by the fact the front and back of the panties were only connected at the sides by thin, easily unraveled ribbon. 

Two light tugs and the little thing would fall open like the perfect present.

“Gen wakes up first…” Reaper murmured, fingers fiddling with one of the ribbons keeping the currently loose panties together. Ink’s going to flip when he sees how well Gen’s gonna fill those out. “He gets dressed first, too, so I never know which ones he chooses to wear until he gets undressed.”

“Stars, I…” _I’m going to see him every day and wonder what he’s wearing under his shorts. Holy shit, it’s going to be torture_. “I’m buying you rainbow ones, Geno.”

“I _hate_ you two.” Was all the glitch responded with, having long since hidden behind his hands in an attempt to escape the embarrassing conversation his husbands were having over his head. “...I have rainbow ones,” he couldn’t help but add though. The choked _whimper_ Ink made in response was well worth the embarrassment of the admission.

Reaper chuckled at slight glow in Ink’s shorts. He _really_ wanted to see Geno in the colors of his magic, huh? Not that Reaper could blame him. Seeing Gen in the colors he associated with himself always got him hot under the robe. “C’mon, baby,” he let the trail of the ribbon slip free from his hand in favor at circling his thumb on Geno’s illium, “why don’t you show Inky just how lovely those look stretched over your pretty red?”

“R-Reaper, that’s-!” Ink leaned in and pressed their mouths together, effectively cutting off Geno’s complaint. Compared to the others they shared, this one was softer; sweeter.

When the artist pulled away, he was smiling at Geno with a soft look in his eyes. “You know,” he began in a whisper, “this is still about _you_ , Gen. I’d love to see how those look with your ecto, but I’d enjoy getting to make you feel good even more, hon. Actually, no. Reaps and I want to make you feel _better_ than good, Ge. We want you to feel the best you’ve ever felt.”

“If you still want to go on, that is. Do you, hon?” Reaper asked, chin settling on Geno’s head. “Do you want us to take care of you?”

In response, Geno shifted slightly, hands hesitantly coming down from his face just as vibrant red began creeping across his torso and stretching down to his femurs. “Yeah,” he whispered, flustered but _wanting_ , “I...I wanna feel good.” _Better than **he** would have been able to make me feel_.

Ink’s gaze softened further even as reactive magic sends sparks all across his body at the indecent sight of soft red curves showing through the sheer and lace material failing to cover Geno’s form.

“Beautiful,” he praised, a single hand reaching out to run across settling magic. Without a shirt or undergarment over his chest, nothing prevented him from cupping the breast that Geno’s scar cuts through diagonally and tracing it’s mark. It’s _just_ close enough to the deep red of Geno’s nipple to make the glitch’s breath stutter as the pad of his thumb passes over it.

Reaper took advantage of the other breast going ignored by Ink and slid his hand across the generous handful to toy with the pebbling bit of flesh left entirely unmarred by Geno’s scar. _His chest is sensitive_ , this, Reaper knew well. He shared this fact with Ink before, but it’s interesting watching the protector experience that sensitivity himself and realize just how _sensitive_ Geno’s chest _really_ was.

A pinch, a tug, a bit of rubbing… Within seconds, the glitch was squirming on Reaper’s lap so wildly that it’s practically a thrash. Stars, the friction…

 _Not yet_ , the god decided, watching Ink’s expression closely as the artist experienced the soft feel of Geno’s ecto for the first time. _Gen first, my needs later_.

Besides, it’s intoxicating; the mix of desire and _awe_ Ink can’t seem to keep off his face. Hearts and stars flashed through his sockets more often than any other symbol and it’s almost laughingly obvious that the artist was completely taken with the reactions he was pulling from Geno. The breathy, stuttering sounds, the shifting and trembling, the cute way Geno was trying to hide his face even while he pressed into their hands… Ink was drinking it all up and watching him do so was pleasurable in a way Reaper didn’t expect.

Geno whined in complaint when his hand dropped, but he didn’t notice, attention caught by the devious glint in Ink’s everchanging eyes that appeared just before he swooped in and claimed the breast Reaper abandoned with his mouth.

Oh, the _noise_ Geno makes…

The sinful little mewl of pleasure has Ink groaning around the nipple caught between his teeth. He wanted nothing more than to _bite_ , but instead lathed the pebbled flesh with attention from his tongue instead. Masochist or not, Geno deserved a bit of sweetness after the terrible last few days he’s had.

“Reapsy, hon?” he called, mouth breaking away from Geno’s chest to start a trail of kisses down his torso. “Can you hold his legs open? Yeah,” nodding in approval when the god hooked his legs under Geno’s knees and coaxed the skeleton’s legs open wide, wide, wide, Ink grinned and praised, “perfect, babe. Just like that.”

“W-what- _Ink!”_ Geno cried, head thrown back against Reaper’s shoulder when a hot mouth settled over his laced-covered sex, worsening the dampness of the cloth with firm strokes from a seeking tongue. “O-oh, t-that...that-! Stars, Ink!” socket fluttering shut, he pushed his hips up into Ink’s mouth, desperate for more of the contact his underwear is interfering with so annoyingly. “P-please take them off.” He wanted to feel that tongue against him without a barrier. It’s filthy, but he wanted it _in_ him too, if Ink was willing. 

“You sure, baby?” Reaper questioned since Ink’s mouth was a little occupied. Unlike their double-checking from before, the question was playful; meant to tease. It’s clear that Geno was very, _very_ positive of what he wants. Despite being aware of this, he posed the question again, hands smoothing over the soft flesh of Geno’s thighs as he held him open for the artist. “Are you really sure? Inky and I will stop if you’re no-”

“If you s-stop I will _end_ you!” Geno hissed, socket cracking open to send a glare over his shoulder to the god. The angry look he sports wavered when fingers came up to press lace between his lips, dragging up until a moan sounds at the feel of fingers and lace rubbing over his clit. “Please,” the glitch whined, thrusting his hips up into the touch, “please, Ink. T-take it off. _Touch me!_ ”

“He is,” the god chuckled, freeing one of Geno’s legs to return his hand to the glitch’s chest. Still painfully sensitive from Ink’s attention, all it took was a tiny little touch to make Geno cry out with a shout of his name. “Our hands are all over you, baby.”

He wanted them to touch _more_ , so Reaper did a bit of readjusting. Bringing both of his hands to Geno’s, he guided the smaller skeleton to his thighs and silently instructs Geno to hold his own legs open so that Reaper can fondle his chest and work a hand down to the panties Ink seems to be enjoying on their husband.

“I want something _in_ me.” Geno whined, fingers dug into the plush flesh of his thighs as he fought the urge to slide his hand around Ink’s head and push him closer to his slick, hidden sex. Delayed, his flushed face darkened. “S-shut up!” He snapped, mortified over what he just said and able to feel the _smirks against him_. One pressed between his legs, one against his neck, but the shape of both clear. “Not a fucking word.”

Ink’s puff of laughter earned a moan from the feel of hot air teasing over Geno’s sensitive clit. _Actions speak louder than words, right?_ Fingers not belonging to him picked at the ribbons keeping Geno’s panties together. Raising his eyes to meet Reaper’s, Ink grinned. _Let’s make our glitch feel good_.

 _Better than good_. Reaper matched Ink grin, unknowingly having thought something very similar to the artist. Gripping both ribbons, he gave a sharp tug and felt of jolt of pleasure as the bows came undone and the material fell apart, revealing Geno’s unobstructed intimacy. _Fuck, Inky definitely has the better view_ , but Reaper could make it even better for him.

“You’re so wet,” he crooned, speaking over the delicious sound Geno made as he slid his fingers through the glitch’s slick lips. Starting from the bottom, he dragged two fingers across the hidden, leaking slit of Geno’s heat and moved up until the pads of his fingers were grinding into the clit throbbing with a lust for attention. Playing with the flushed bundle of nerves was tempting, but he left it alone after a few pretty moans from Geno. “Here, Inky,” fingers spreading, he parted the folds hiding the glitch’s slit and purred, “have yourself a _real_ taste of our Gen. Then, we’ll get him nice and ready for you.”

“For _us_ ,” Ink corrected, barely restraining himself from diving in, “if that’s okay, hon? Think you want the two of us? _Together?_ ” At the concern he could feel from both, he soothingly reassured, “It’ll be perfectly safe if we get you prepped for us. We’ll go slow too so it doesn’t hurt. Get you nice and ready and distract you with some touches if you need us to. If you don’t want to do it that way though, then we don’t have to, love. There’s plenty of ways to go about this.”

“...I...I want to try.” He and Reaper had done similar things with thinner toys before. It...it wouldn’t be too different from that, right?

“You don’t want to have Gen on your own before we do anything?” Reaper asked, genuinely curious. “You two haven’t had your first yet.”

Ink shot them both a wink. “Oh, hon. It’s fine. After all,” leaning in, he let his breath ghost over the twitching slit Reaper was keeping unobstructed for him, “if I go in _first_ , it still counts, right? And even if it doesn’t, it’ll still be _memorable._ ”

With that, Ink gently blew onto Geno’s revealed sex just to hear him whimper before pushing his tongue into the tight, yearning heat of his smallest lover.

“ _Ah!_ A-ah, _ah!_ ” Geno moaned, clawing at his own legs and just managing to keep them from snapping closed around Ink’s skull. “I-Ink!” he shouted, hips thrusting slightly before Reaper’s arm came around to anchor him to his lap. “Ink, _I-Ink!_ ”

Wanting to join in on making Geno feel good, the god dipped a third finger between the ones keeping Geno’s lips spread and gave special attention to Geno’s clit while Ink focused on getting his tongue as deep as it could go.

There was no denying that their actions were filthy, but, as Ink began working fingers into their smallest husband while Reaper held him still and open all while simultaneously playing with Geno’s clit, there was still something somehow _sweet_ about it. Very, very sinful, yes, but sweet.

It was in the way that neither moved too fast and how, even though Geno was far from a virgin, they treated him delicately while they pleasured him.

Ink’s mouth withdrew constantly to press soft kisses to the thighs on either side of his head. In addition to that, his fingers never forced themselves into Geno’s heat unless he was stretched and wet and asking Ink for more with whimpered pleas, ensuring that every moan he earned was from pleasure and not pleasuring pain.

Similarly, Reaper’s usual rough treatment of Geno was softer, matching Ink’s loving gentleness as he worshipped Geno with firm caresses instead of sharp pinches and wicked clawing across flesh. To go with the kinder touches, he kept peppering Geno’s skull, neck, and shoulders with small, adoring kisses that always trailed back to the side of the glitch’s skull so that he could whisper praises to the skeleton squirming between them.

“You’re doing so well, Gen,” Reaper cooed, “so, so well. Think you’re almost ready for us, baby?”

Socket full of tears from pleasure as he teetered on the edge of completion, Geno nodded; unable to utter anything more than their half formed names alongside various needy sounds.

“Just a little longer and we’ll be set.” Ink informed them, mouth never straying far from the tight heat fluttering around his fingers. “Think you can hold off on cumming, Gen?”

“N-no.” Stars, he was so, so close. Geno… he couldn’t-! “G-guys,” he whimpered, hips twitching into Ink’s fingers as much as Reaper’s restraining arm around him would allow, “I...I’m g-going to-!”

Ink’s fingers withdrew.

No! _No!_ He-! Geno was _right there!_ “Please,” he begged, “p-please let me finish!”

There was nothing more that Ink wanted in that moment than to see Geno’s face as he tipped over the edge, but things would go so much easier for them if they didn’t have to work through oversensitivity when pushing in. “Just wait a little longer, hon. Can you do that for us? _Can you be good for us, baby?_ ”

Geno jolted before going still, socket dripping with tears and expression pitiful as he nodded for Ink. “O-okay,” he whimpered, “I...I can try.”

Reaper chuckled. At Ink’s slight confusion, he mouthed, _“Magic words”_ to the artist. A few choice words or phrases and Geno got delightfully obedient.

Ink flushed when he realized he accidentally called up one of their _things_. His pretty rainbow blush only made Reaper laugh more. _You’re knuckles deep in him and **that** has you embarrassed? Cute_.

“Yeah?” Reaper murmured heatedly, eyes on Ink, “Gonna be good for your husbands and keep yourself from cumming until we say you’re allowed?”

“Y-Yes!” Geno sobbed, hiccuping as he fought off his own pleasure.

“And if you can’t manage it? If you’re bad and tip over that edge?”

Ink’s fingers curled, brushing up against the bundle of nerves that had Geno screaming. “P-punishment!” Remarkably, no foul emotions seemed to be associated with the word, despite Nightmare’s link to it.

 _Holy shit_ , Ink gaped at the two, face warmed and shorts tenting with interest. As Reaper crooned pure filth to Geno, his arousal grew; sparks ignited into a roaring flame. Just a few words and the snappy comments littered throughout Geno’s pleasure were gone. In their place; a docile, meek persona so unusual to see from the often spiteful skeleton he knew. ... _I should ask more about those games. Later though_ , he told himself.

Trying to shake off the distraction—an attempt he failed spectacularly, by the way—Ink tested yet another finger and smiled in satisfaction when Geno took it with little prodding from his end. _That should be good_.

Displeased when Ink pulled his fingers free, Geno whined, “I-Ink…”

Gently shushing him, Reaper removed his own slick phalanges from between Geno’s thighs and tilted his head at Ink, arm still anchoring the glitch to his lap but loosened with the lack of stimulation to keep Geno from squirming. “How are we gonna do this, Ink?” Voice deepening, he posed his next question directly into where Geno perceived sound. “What do you need Gen here to do for you?”

_This is about Geno, this is about Geno_ … but, stars, that was so hard to remember when Geno was whimpering for more and Ink was, well, _hard_. Judging by Reaper’s shit-eating grin, the god knew he was having difficulties maintaining his concentration, too. What a loveable asshole. _This is about Geno_ … 

“P-please,” Geno begged, “more, more! Please, I-Ink?” 

... _Well, if that’s what he wants~_ Shifting on his knees, Ink, unashamed of his arousal, brought a hand to the obvious bulge in his shorts and palmed himself as he eyed the desperate little skeleton whining on the god’s lap. “Come here, hon.” Trying to match the soft yet commanding tone Reaper used when speaking just a few seconds ago, Ink directed, “Get on your knees between us, Ge. No, not like that,” he added when Geno began crawling forward on his hands and knees, “like me, hon. Just on your knees.” 

‘Helpfully,’ Reaper clarified, “Like you do when you decide you want to _worship_ , babe.” 

“O-oh.” Huh, apparently _the god’s_ advice actually was helpful, because Geno quickly corrected his position so that he was propped up on both knees between both his husbands, though only Ink was doing the same. “G-good?” Geno questioned meekly, double-checking and trying not to squirm as he awaited an answer. 

Still behind him, Reaper remained seated, a hand lazily fiddling with the belt around his waist while he enjoyed the eyeful of Geno’s ass he was getting. Such a pretty red… 

As much as he liked having that ass on his lap and Geno thrashing around on him, he did have to admit that he was extremely relieved that the smaller skeleton moved off. Not wanting to risk mimicking anything the bastard did while wearing his face, he kept his magic from responding to Geno’s delicious squirming and pretty noises while the glitch was in a position where he’d feel the sexual magic pressing into him from beneath. Without Geno on his lap though… _Oh thank the stars_ , he groaned, shifting in place and working to undo his ropes when magic gathered under his robe rapidly. _Any longer and I might have actually died from the strain_. 

At both their silences, Geno’s expression fell a bit, a hint of disappointed blue darkening the red-pinks of his aura. Catching the change, Ink frowned a bit. _Why is he upset- oh! Ooooh_. “Perfect, Gen.” Ink praised, “Want to keep being good and spread your legs? A little mor-yeah, perfect, hon.” A sluggish trail of slick dripped down one of Geno’s thighs and Ink shivered, symbols darkening with a deep, sensual red as he felt himself throb in desire at the sight. “Stars, you’re so, so perfect. You want this now, Ge?” Sliding his fingers up his cloth covered cock, Ink lightly traced the button keeping his shorts sealed. “Ready to let us _really_ make you feel good?” 

Trembling with a maddening mix of anticipation and absolute need, the glitch nodded with a flushed yet eager expression, though hesitation entered his expression when his eyelight flickered down. “Do y-you want me to…?” He gestured to Ink’s shorts unsurely. 

... _Oh, stars, that is **so** tempting_, but Ink shook his head, fingers working his shorts open and dipping into the confines of his underwear to grip himself and pull his cock free. “Not today, baby, though I’ll _definitely_ remember that offer.” 

Heh, what a flattering flare of color. Grinning, Ink winked and spared a few moments for his own pleasure by stroking over his length in an almost lazy manner, taking the time with the movement of his wrist to better showcase the member Geno was trying to pretend he wasn’t lusting over. “Like what you see?” 

“In-” a gasp interrupted Geno, the noise one of surprise born from the feel of a hand settling on his bare ass. 

“I know I do.” Reaper chuckled, settling behind Geno and lightly squeezing the handful of flesh he held. In his defense: he tried to resist touching. _Tried_ , but failed. “I’m sure Gen does too, Inky, but I think he’d do more than admire the view. He’s being so good for us, hasn’t he? Why don’t we give him his reward?” 

Matching the smirk Reaper wore, Ink nodded and closed what little distance there was between him and the glitch. “I was leaning towards starting on my own, but…” adjusting himself, the artist tucked his legs under himself as he sat instead of kneels. “Reaps, get closer to Gen and sit like I am. This is going to be a bit of a difficult position and fit, but going in together should help things along. Gen, baby,” he cooed, spreading Geno’s legs a little wider, “keep yourself up, okay? Reaps and I will direct you when we’re ready.” 

One shyer than the other, his husbands nodded; Geno keeping still while Reaper tucked himself close behind the glitch and fitted himself as close as he could. Robe gone, nothing remained on the god to prevent his length from rubbing against Ink’s and both groaned in appreciation at the pleasurable sensation that was only amplified by the artist wrapping his hand around both their cocks. 

“Fuck,” Reaper growled, lightly pushing his hand into Ink’s fist who closed his hand tighter in response. 

Shuddering pleasantly, Ink tipped his head back slightly and simply enjoyed the feel of Reaper’s hot, weeping length against his own and the wonderful friction of his hands stroking over their cocks. Stars, it felt so good… _I could cum from this alone_. And oh, wasn’t that just a tempting thought? At it, his thumb stroked across the heads of their cocks, skimming over his own slit and catching on Reaper’s who rewarded him with pretty moan. 

“G-guys,” Geno whined, quivering on his knees as he struggled to keep himself hovering over them. T-that sound... Slick and familiar… _Oh gods, they’re-!_ He couldn’t even finish the thought. Embarrassingly, what little he managed was more than enough to send a telling strand of his wetness dripping from his eager sex. 

Ink’s chuckle was so low it barely registered. “We didn’t forget about you, baby.” he promised, hand reluctantly uncurling from around their lengths to reach up and grab Geno by the hips. “I’m going to pull you down nice and slow, okay? If you need to stop, then just say so, honey.” 

“Our safeword is blue.’ Reaper informed him, hand replacing Ink’s and keeping their members pressed together and still. “We can work out one we all agree on later but, for now, that’ll be the easiest thing for Gen to remember since he’s used to it. Can you repeat the word for me, hon?” 

“B-bl-!” Geno stuttered, moaning slightly when he was gently guided down low enough that the very tips of their cocks began pressing against him. _“Blue!”_ he finally answered. 

Instead of being coaxed down further, Ink stilled his guidance and groaned approvingly as Reaper guided them in a slow grind between the glitch’s fold, the god’s hand resuming the stroking Ink abandoned to spread the lubricant Geno was freely offering across their shafts. “G-good,” Ink breathed, praising both the glitch and god, “stars, so good.” 

“I think we’re more than good, Ink.” carefully, Reaper brought them to Geno’s slit and tilted his head to meet Ink’s eyes, “I think we’re ready.” They really couldn’t slick themselves up anymore than they already were. 

“Ge?” 

“R-Ready…” 

Nodding, Ink tightened his hold on Geno’s hips and slowly began easing him back down. 

“It’s okay.” he soothed, Reaper crooning comforting sounds to the glitch who began whimpering as their heads pressed inside of him with an obscene pop. Rubbing circles over Geno’s side, Ink continued coaxing him to take more, murmuring in a gentle tone of voice, “You’re doing goon, hon. You’re doing so, so good, Geno.” _You **feel** so good._

“T-too-!” socket clenched shut, Geno mentally encouraged himself to just _breathe_ as he attempted to relax around the members penetrating him. “Too m-much. Inky, R-Reaps- _ah!_ ” 

One hand around their cocks and the other back between Geno’s thighs to distract him by rolling his clit between his fingers, Reaper continued his soft crooning, reassuring the glitch with gentle noises and softly spoken words as their artist pushed Geno down further. “You can take it, honey. Stars, you are taking it. Besides,” leaning up without disturbing the sensitive magic being accepted into Geno’s heat, Reaper pressed a kiss to the back of the shorter skeleton’s neck and teased, “I don’t hear you naming any colors.” 

_Pink_ , Ink thought cheekily, smile parted slightly with quiet pants. He felt kind of bad about the bruises he was sure he was adding to the collection on Geno’s pretty red flesh, but the tight grip was all that was grounding him. Without it, he might simply lose himself to the intense heat spreading around his most sensitive area of magic and simply plunge the rest of his length inside. Shaking with restraint, he helped Geno take in more and tried to focus on the other colors all around them. _So much pink. From Reaper, from Geno, and from myself, too. Stars, there’s so many kinds, too_. 

Pretty pastels linked to affection, the sweet hue of fondness that bled into romantic love… Deeper tones with clear hints of red like the lust for each other or the burning desire that was so red you could barely consider it a shade of pink… Stars, Ink could spend hours listing the intricate mixes and piecing together their meanings and would still need more time just to get through them all. And that was if he was focused on the reds and pinks alone! The pretty yellows spread around like drops of sunlight, the pleasant shades of blue the color so rarely got to represent, purples that meant pain but didn’t strike fear because it was linked with the heated hues of the red-pinks… 

_There’s just so much…_ When he blinked, a tear or two slid from his sockets, disturbed by the motion, _It’s beautiful. Stars, it’s all so beautiful…!_

And all those colors were born from _this_. From sex, but not sex _alone_. The half rainbow all around them came from the love that they shared and currently chose to express through a vivid, bodily manner. 

“I love you.” He breathed, trembling from more than restraint when Geno fully settled on his and Reaper’s laps, their members sheathed entirely in the glitch’s heat. “Reaps, Gen,” Ink gasped, another few tears sliding down his face, “I love you.” _I feel that love. With my body, my heart and my **soul** , but, stars, I **see** it too, and it’s beautiful. So, so beautiful_. 

Socket dripping from the overwhelming sensations he felt, Geno shakily reached up and cupped Ink’s head, smile a small, wavering thing but warm as the glitch wiped his tears. “I l-love you too. _B-both_ of you.” 

“My precious artist,” Reaper murmured, chin set on Geno’s shoulder, “my darling first… I love both of you too.” 

Laughing wetly, Ink leaned in and pressed his teeth first to Geno’s, then to Reaper’s. As he did so; however, he was forced to _move_ , and a loud moan from the glitch made continuing his kiss with the god very, very difficult because _sound_ wasn’t Geno’s only response to the movement. 

“F-fuck!” Reaper cried, words swallowed by Ink as their kissed turned heated. 

The more Geno was lowered, the less he played with his clit, too distracted by the tight heat made all the tighter by the cock pressed up against his own. When the glitch squeezed around them with his moan, he remembered the sensitive bundle of nerves his fingers abandoned and rolled the nub between his finger and thumb in a harsh pinch in retaliation for the unexpected surge of pleasure from Geno. 

_“R-Reaps!”_ Geno cried, instinctively thrusting after retreating fingers and crying out louder the sharp movement ended with the lengths grinding against his stretched walls. “Reaper, I-Ink, p-please-” he never got to cum. Ink didn’t want him to, so he was _still_ waiting for that go ahead. For the permission to let loose. If they didn’t give it soon though—if they didn’t move—then he was sure he would go insane. “Please, p-please! C-can-” Why weren’t they moving?! “C-can I...I…?” 

With a blink, Ink’s eyes shifted into different sized hearts. They didn’t change the next time he blinked, or any other times after that. “Ye-” 

Reaper cut him off. “No.” he growled, hands settling on Geno’s waist as Ink kept his hold on red hips. Face flushed cyan with matching colored sweat glistening on his skull, he met Ink’s eyes with heated pools of black and murmured, for Ink’s sake, “It’ll be so much better for you if you wait. You’re being _wonderful_ , hon. Fuck, you’re wrapped around both our cocks right now because you took them so, so well. You’re amazing, baby, but you’re not allowed to cum. Not until we say so, remember? Not unless we think it’s worth your time.” 

“I n-need-!” Sobbing, Geno found himself unable to continue. How could he? Ink and Reaper, upon sharing a look of agreement, began lifting him up, up, _up_ ; sliding him up and nearly off the entire length of their cocks and destroying his ability to think, let alone speak. He tried to call out their names. 

A pleasured scream stole their place when Geno was dropped back down. 

_F-fuck-!_ Symbols flashing, Ink nearly lost his hearts when intense, intense, intense pleasure filled him. Part of that was from Reaper against him and Geno all around him, he knew, but- _There’s no way that’s just **my** feelings_. The thick fog of pink-red was too plentiful to belong to him alone. Stars, he- Ink might as well have been looking through colored lenses with the way color took over his sight. 

_And the color…_

It only _increased_ as they continued. 

Every rise and fall he and Reaper worked for, every sweet moan and desperate scream, Geno’s pleasured tears and Reaper’s animalistic noises… They were all linked to a color that would burst before his eyes like fireworks as their actions stimulated it into exploding. The stronger ones, Ink felt as if they were his own and it- they- 

Whimpering out a desperate, needy sound, Ink raised onto his knees and gave a sharp thrust of his hips, Reaper following and doing the same to ensure he wouldn’t slip from Geno’s pliant sex. _I...I want more!_ The colors, the sensations… they were all so amazing. So, so amazing. _Don’t forget about Geno_ , a distant thought reminded him. 

“A-ah! Ah! _A-Ah!”_ Geno shouted, head thrown back against Reaper’s shoulder and socket so wide the darkness of his socket would have drowned his eyelight had it not been a bright, blown out heart. “I-I-” the noise he made might have been his name. Ink wasn’t sure. 

_Yeah, he’s being **well** taken care of_, Ink thought just before Reaper lurched forward, Geno sandwiched between them tightly as the god pushed his tongue into Ink’s more than accepting mouth. 

“Fuck!” One of them moaned. Neither was sure who since the sound was so quickly lost to their burning kiss. 

Fingers clawing down his back, a tongue intertwined with his, hands on his ass, a mouth on his neck… and with it all, color, color, _color_. 

“Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease!” Geno wailed, babbling his pleas as he hung limp between them, unable to muster up the ability to meet the thrusting of their hips. He was sobbing harder now, but Ink didn’t blame him. _He_ almost began crying when Reaper forced them to stop when tell-tale signs Ink didn’t yet know began hinting at the glitch’s orgasm. “Pleasepleaseplease! L-let me- I...I _need-!_ ” 

“Gen…” Reaper murmured, something in his voice that Ink couldn’t hear cutting off the glitch’s pleading near instantly. “Be g-good.” 

_Why is that so hot?!_ Ink _definitely_ needed to try out some of their games at one point. Later, of course. Much, much later when he recovered from— 

To still his whines, Geno leaned forward and sank his teeth into Ink’s neck, pleasure like nothing he ever felt before sparking into a raging infernal from the sharp sensation and making Ink _scream_. Startled by the intense sensation, his next thrust hit almost ruthlessly hard and Geno’s own cry joined his, the tight walls caressing their cocks so perfectly _clenching_ before spasming around their shafts with a wild, rapid massage. 

_“Re- I-”_ was all Geno managed before his shaped eyelight flickered and vanished, the glitch going almost completely still between them. They both worried about his consciousness, but Geno’s orgasam came too quickly and too strongly for them to be prepared for it and the small, worn skeleton managed a bit of movement and strained moan when they spilled themselves into his cunt, seconds apart. “A-ah…” Yep, he was fin- 

Reaper shifted a bit, limp magic giving a stir of interest within Geno’s oversentive sex when he murmured “We didn’t say you could cum, hon. Ready for that punishment?” 

Ink looked at him incredulously. “R-Reaps,” when did his voice get so hoarse, he wondered, “are you crazy? He… Gen looks seconds away from falling asleep!” 

“Baby,” Reaper crooned, “do you want more?” 

He was insan- 

Geno weakly shifted between them. It took three tries for his magic to spark to life in his socket but, when it did, his hazy eyelight still presented as a heart. “Y-yes.” he mewled, clenching around them and giving a tired but still such a needy squirm. “P-please?” 

_Holy shit_. 

“Holy shit,” Ink whispered, echoing his thoughts. 

Reaper, though tired himself, smirked. “How about it, protector? Want to torture Gen by leaving him out of the next round then reward his patience—if he keeps it—with some more loving? Oh, or we could just have another go and make him take every load we give him. Either way, you in for teaching Gen a lesson about listening to his husbands?” 

_Holy fucking shit_. 

There was really only one answer he could give to that. 

Heated, sensual red coloring his symbols, Ink nodded with a grin. “Fuck yes.” 

By the time they’re done for food, Nightmare is definitely the last thing on any of their minds. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been brought to you by your walking smut generator - 🌸


	21. Fell Into Some Cuteness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Geno meets Underfell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We wanted to treat ourselves to a new and quick update, so we did! Turns out, you get to enjoy the treat too!

It was around time for dinner when the three idiots emerged from the bedroom. The three looked like they showered, though it wasn't fully clear if they did so separately. Error had rummaged through the fridge and got leftovers ready for everyone. The kids and Spright came down for dinner, with Spright being a little too obvious about being on his phone. 

Ink practically skipped down the stairs, to Reaper's amusement and annoyance, to give Error a kiss and a devious grin. "Awww mama Ruru~!" 

He scowled, "No," though the expression melted at seeing Ink so happy. He shook his head. "Idiot." 

"Are you jealous?" Ink asked, knowing he wasn't. "Aww don't be jealous! We can spoil you too~!" 

Bright blush, "Sh-shut up dumbass and take your nasty ass tofu."

Ink brightened, his symbols practically sparkling in his sockets. "Tofu? You dug out my tofu _and_ warmed it up for me? Reaps, Geno! Did you hear that? Ru loves me!"

Reaper grinned, amused. "Awww, how sweet~"

Worn and tired, Geno slumped forward and pressed his face into the kitchen table. "Error, if you love _me_ , then you'll take up Reaps job and you'll end me now."

Error shot his brother a wide, evil grin. "No. You're going to suffer the consequences of humoring them."

"Oh, Gen did more than just _humor_ us." Reaper purred, taking a seat by his tired first and patting his head. Geno groaned and lazily swatted his hand away.

Ink happily took the tofu, giving Error a kiss in return. Error _almost_ chased after him, but the impatient coo from Goth had the destroyer turning back towards the leftovers. 

Spright finally set his phone down long enough to help set the table up, though Error was still heating foods up. He glanced to Reaper, "Ya bro said he had some late night work ta do so he won't be home til later." 

Reaper nodded, "Yeah, he's a hard worker..." 

"You should go give him some food," Geno grumbled. He barely lifted his head when Error set his plate down in front of him. 

Error watched his first from the kitchen, seeing how relaxed and genuinely happy he was. His sash was still somewhere in their dresser upstairs, but Ink hadn't needed to take anything since Life's.

 _Guess the side affect isn't too bad_ , he thought, packing away everything that wasn't served and taking his seat, _not when he looks so happy_.

Digging into his food, Error let himself smile as laughter and chatter washed over him.  
All things considered, things looked like they were going to turn out well for this family.

———

Reaps had gone out for his job, leaving the others at home. Spright and Ink were entertaining the kids with video games. Error watched his other brother pacing into and out of the kitchen multiple times. On the fifth time, Error spoke up, "Geno, do you want to go shopping?"

Geno paused, glancing guiltily at Error. "N...not really..." 

Ink looked up. Though he was waiting for Dream to call him, he was starting to suspect his best friend knew he needed to spend this time with his family. He took full advantage. "Gen, hon, when was the last time you left the house?"

Looking a little like a child caught doing something they knew they weren't meant to be doing, Geno glanced away. "Oh, um, well..."

Error facepalmed, answering the question for his unwilling brother. "Fucking-! You haven't been out since we went to the bar with Spright."

Squinting, Ink did his best to recall just how far back that had been. His memory seemed a lot more reliable lately, so he was confident when he murmured, "That was about a month ago." Then, he was a little horrified. "Geno, that was a _month_ ago!"

Reaper was the one to start it, but there was an unspoken rule around the house that Geno should be coaxed out as often as possible. Ink could only really guess at his reasons, some of which seemed obvious, but the glitch didn't like leaving the comfort of their home. At all. Because of this, the husbands tried to get him out whenever an opportunity came around. If Geno wasn't going to be the one to get himself some fresh air, then they'd have to step up to do it.

"Geno..." Ink began.

Shoulders hunching, the glitch avoided his eyes. "I...I'm sure it hasn't been that long."

"Bullshit." Error muttered under his breath.

Spright looked up, "Yeah, broski, we're on day 34 since Bro-Day." 

Geno turned bright red, "S-so...?" 

"Hey! We haven't gotten a restock on our chocolates in longer than that!" Ink tried his best to not sound horrified. The artist didn't know what he would do if he spent such a long time in one place... "Um, so why don't we visit Underfell for a bit, Gen?" Error gave him a _sharp_ look that Ink waved off with his phone. "I'll call them now and ask if they'd be down for some visitors." 

"W-wait, that isn't-" 

But Ink was already up and headed out the front door, dialing the Fell brothers. Geno gave Error a helpless look. "C'mon, bro, I'm fine here!" 

"No, you need a change of scenery, if only for a few moments. Spright and I'll take the kids shopping while you're out." Error crossed his arms, stubbornly staring at Geno.

Shoulders slumping, Geno murmured, "I'm a house husband. Not a...not a going outside husband."

Error and Spright shared a look before turning to Geno. "Bruh..." Spright began, gaze sympathetic.

"...that's _really_ fucking sad." Error finished, though the exasperated look his younger, colorful brother shot him informed the glitch that wasn't what he would have chosen to say. "C'mon, glitch face. You know you'll have fun once you're actually out there."

"And Inky-brah will be there! He'll, heh, _Protect_ ya! Dats kinda his thang, ain't it?" 

Geno was still shrinking in on himself when Error muttered, "You're getting chocolate out of this." 

"I... I guess so..."

"Dats da spirit!" Spright snickered. 

PJ tugged on Spright's sleeve, "Uncle, uncle, it's your turn!"

As Spright turned to continue the game, Goth trotted up to Geno. “Mama’s going away?”

When little arms raised in his direction, Geno bent and hefted Goth up. Settling him on his hip, he sighed and nodded. “Looks like it, little guy.” At Goth’s crestfallen expression, his eye widened and he was quick to correct, “Not forever though, honey! Mama is just going to go out for a bit with dunkle Ink.”

Appeased, the child happily nuzzled into his mother’s warmth. “Kay. Mama,” he tried to look stern, “be good.”

Was...was Goth copying _his_ mom voice?

Geno grinned at him, "Yes sir." He snuggled Goth up before setting him down. 

Ink came back in, stars in his eyes. "We're ready to go! Come on Geno! Oh wait!" Ink jogged over to PJ and scooped him up. "RAWR!!" 

Spright mercifully paused the game to grin at his squealing nephew. "P-MmmMMAMAAAA!" 

Ink raspberried where PJ's stomach would be and grinned at him. "HAHA, I GOTCHU!!" 

PJ exacted his revenge immediately by going straight for Ink's ticklish floating ribs. Ink yelped amd busted up laughing. "GOT YOU!" his son beamed. 

Ink quickly and carefully set him down, "Truce! Truce!!" PJ pouted up at him, so he knelt down and whispered, "Daddy's ticklish too." 

PJ's eyelight turned to a star as he stared at Error. 

"You're dead to me, squid." 

Ink grinned brightly at him. "I'll make it up to you, Ruru~!"

Flat out ignoring him as punishment for his betrayal, Error turned to his brother, flat expression wavering slightly when PJ latched himself to his leg and tried reaching up to tickle his ribs. "If you're going to the Fells, then you should probably wear real shoes."

Staring at his white, blood crusted slippers in dismay, Geno pouted slightly. "I can handle a bit of snow in my slippers, Error."

"No, he's right, Geno." Ink was _pretty_ sure everything would be since he was planning on staying inside Red's house while they were there, but, well, it was a Fellverse. You never really knew when you'd have to jump to your feet and run. "I'll be waiting right here once you're done switching your shoes."

Just before Geno disappeared up the stairs, Error called out, "Don't even _try_ hiding this time!"

The artist walked over to PJ, nodding to Spright. "Your uncle has been waiting for you hon, we can tickle daddy later, okay?" 

Mischief and excitement in his colors and eyes, PJ nodded and ran to Spright. 

Ink turned to Error, offering his hands and a smile. 

Error stared at him suspiciously. "What do you want." 

"Snuggles from my favorite _little_ destroyer." At the shift in his colors, Ink quickly amended, "My favorite destroyer!" 

Error grumbled, "Squidiot," but wrapped his arms around Ink's waist. Grouchily, he muttered, "I'm big spoon tonight, dammit."

"Sure sure," Ink cooed, snuggling Error up.

As the clock continued ticking, Error sank deeper and deeper into Ink's embrace. He would never admit it to the asshole's face, but he kind of liked the bastard's new height. There was so much more to hug and he found himself taking advantage of it by pressing as close as he could, all but purring in contentment. 

"Comfortable?" Ink asked, leaning against the wall while Error pushed further into his arms. "Heh, cutie."

"What was that?" Error growled dangerously.

Ink was quick to hop into another topic. Cuddly Error was adorable, but cuddly Error would only ever take so much teasing in one day before snapping. "I asked if you think Geno's taking so long because he forgot where his shoes are or because he's stalling."

"Stalling." Error said, almost speaking over Ink with how quickly he made up his mind. "He's the one that cleans. And his shoes..." he shivered, "there's no way he lost those disgusting things. They're too bright."

Without looking away from the screen, Spright protested, "Dat ain't cool of yah, bro! I got Geno-bro da sick kicks yer dissing!"

"And I'm _still_ angry at you for it!"

Curious, Ink tilted his head. "They're just shoes, right? They can't be that bad, Ru."

And then, in a move that would have given Reaper a heart attack, Geno came rolling down the stairs in a pair of bright, sparkling _pink_ heelys that glittered as the light hit them. When he hopped over the last step and his feet touched the ground in what could be considered a stomp, a ring of blue, flashing lights around the bottom of the shoes went off for a few seconds.

Ink stared.

Geno met his gaze and scowled fiercely. "I'm wearing shoes." 

"Y-Y-Yeah...." 

Error glanced at Geno's shoes, shuddering slightly before letting Ink go. "Be safe." He smirked at Ink's dismayed glance to him. "I told you. Go, before he tries to hide." 

Ink chuckled then walked over to Geno. "Alright, ready hon?" 

Geno took his hand and let his heelys do the work. Ink fidgeted, partially jealous of the shoes. 

Error knew him too well. "Absolutely NOT. If I find that you have a pair, I'm going to burn them, squid." A pleading glance by the door, and Error's fingers twitched. "No. Not even if you get the whole family a pair." 

"Huh, dat ain't a bad idea," Spright muttered to himself.

Error's eyes practically lit with the flames from his brightly burning red. Thinking quickly, Ink clutched Geno's hand in a firm grip and got them out of the house _fast_. Hopefully, his little husband would still have two brothers when they returned. "You might want to put the wheels away, hon. I'm not sure how well I'll be able to drag you through the snow on them."

"You'll manage." Geno grumbled, squinting as his eye attempted to readjust to the intensity of the sun above them.

Pausing a few feet from their house, Ink chuckled, "And if I can't?" he asked, reached out his free hand and summoning his brush directly into his hold. Much easier than having to reach back.

 _"You'll manage._ "

Well, guess Ink didn't have much of a choice. "You ready, hon?"

Geno pouted, "No, I wanna go home." 

_Oh boy_... "Gen, give it at least an hour, okay? Then we'll go, if you really don't wanna stay." 

Geno practically glared at him before sighing. "Fine. Only one hour." Ink smiled and painted open a portal to Underfell.

"Stay close, okay? I need to make the portal closer to the ruins to keep us from being seen. The last time I was around the townsfolk seemed used to me, but resets still happen from time to time and I'm not sure if we'll need to be reintroduced or not. Judging by the conversation I had with Red though, that shouldn't be a problem." _Thankfully_.

Ink liked Underfell. It was a terrible place, but it had charm and he liked Red. Well, he liked Red after he realized there was a side to him _worth_ liking. That the angry, violent person he was, was a result of desperation the red eyed Sans just needed saving from. 

Still...

Glancing at Geno, Ink's symbols flickered and he hesitate, stalling right before the portal waiting to be stepped into. Underfell was... _violent_. They wouldn't be out in the open for long and Ink was too intimidating to be worth the risk of attaching, but Geno...

Repaired SOUL or not, Geno looked like the walking definition of the "Free Exp" title Fell monsters liked to throw around at weak looking prey.

A surge of protectiveness rushing through him, Ink pulled Geno a little closer and turned to the portal with a look of determination. Everything would be fine.

Ink would keep Geno safe.

Together, they stepped through.

———

The portal closed behind them. They started trudging through the snow with Geno glancing around wearily. _Recognition_ , though the colors bled with confusion. Ink glanced back momentarily, wondering what he was thinking about. Did this place resemble Aftertale too much...? Was this a bad idea? He focused back on the present, coming across a branch.

"If you step on that, you'll alert the others." A gruff voice spoke. 

Geno tensed, barely resisting inching closer to the artist. Ink smirked, glancing to the speaker. "Hey Red." 

Red emerged from the trees, hands shoved in his jacket pockets. "'Sup?" He peered curiously at Geno, but turned back to Ink. "C'mon, I cleared the path, but it's only a matter of time." 

Geno watched Red cautiously. Magic threatened to come to life in his socket, but he willed himself to trust Ink and follow the strange, punk-looking skeleton. Ink squeezed Geno's hand gently, smiling to him. 

The walk to Red's house was fairly quiet. There was dust mingled with the snow in several spaces near his sentry post, but no monsters. They got closer to the town, and Geno saw a dog run off into the trees. Just as they reached town limits, Red grabbed Ink's arm and shortcut the three of them to his front door-

Fell opened the door, towering over them menacingly. The gouges on his face caught in the porch light, making the shadows look so much darker. "Sans," Geno tensed, squeezing Ink's hand, "You better shake out your jacket before coming in here. I just vacuumed." He turned his attention to the other two. "Ink... did you get taller?"

A nod and a grin, "Yep! Fell, meet one of my husbands, Geno! Geno, this is Fell. He's Captain of the Royal Guard here." 

Red shrugged his jacket off, sighing. Geno peered from behind Ink. His expression was blank but Ink felt the curiosity and the intimidation he was feeling. 

"Geno, huh? You're the one that orders our chocolates through Ink?" A nod from the smallest, and Fell's intimidating grin split wider. "Well, it's about time he brought you around to meet us." He stepped aside, motioning for them to come in. 

Ink let Geno go first before leaning to Red and whispering, "The knives...?" 

"Hidden, like you asked." 

Relief flooded through him, and Ink gave a grateful smile before walking in.

A small, startled squeak had Ink instantly whirling around with red flickering in his sockets. _Geno...!_

Hanging quite a few feet above the floor by a clawed grasp gripping onto his hood, Geno stared at the Papyrus holding him with a wide, frightened socket. _What did I do?!_

Turning to see what drew his friend's attention, Red facepalmed the moment he saw what his brother was doing. "C'mon, Boss," he groaned, "Ain'tcha always gettin' on _my_ ass fer makin' shitty first impressions? Put the lil guy down."

"Quiet, welp," Fell ordered, narrowed gaze watching Geno closely, "I'm inspecting our new guest."

"Fer what?!"

"None of your business!"

A small bit of jostling made Geno squeak again. The sound was small, high, and cute. With a dumbfounded expression, Red took notice at the faintest hint of pink in his brother's cheeks. _Oh you gotta be fuckin' kidding me..._ Out loud, he said, "Boss! You can't be fuckin' serious! He isn't one of yer plush toys! Put him down!"

Ink blinked, his symbols coming to an abrupt halt as the anger making his targets flicker to life swiftly drained. Covering his mouth with a hand, he tried not to laugh. _He thinks Geno's cute!_

Fell's head snapped in his brother's direction. "They are not _toys!_ They're...they're..." his hands waved for emphasis, accidentally shaking Geno around more, "battle props! I use them for plotting out strategies!" 

"They're fuckin' _dolls_ and yah know it!" 

"They! Are! **No-!** " 

Geno, panicking a little being shaken about, instinctively kicked out and slammed a bright, glittering shoe-clad foot into Fell's face; effectively freeing himself from the hold he was trapped in.

When he landed on his feet, the shoes lit up, the flashing lights unsuitably cheerful for the heavy silence of the room.

"I...I..." Geno stuttered, looking up nervously as Fell slowly lifted a hand to his bruising jaw. "I d-didn't-"

"Huh," Fell murmured, watching him with narrowed eyes, "your form is surprisingly acceptable. Next time, aim a little higher."

Geno, stunned, stared. _Where the fuck did Ink take me?!_

Ink winked at Red before schooling his expression onto Fell. "If you want, I can ask Error to make you a Geno-doll." 

"I-Ink!" Geno whirled on his husband. 

Red busted up laughing at seeing Fell's face turn a darker shade of pink. "Th-that will not be necessary, artist." 

Are you sure?" Ink tilted his head as innocently as he could. "Because I won't let you keep him, but a doll should be fine!"

"Tch." Fell turned away, but the interest in his colors had Ink making a mental note and grinning wider.

"I hate you," Geno growled, socket narrowed at Ink, "so, so much."

Ink's smile slanted. _That's not what you said last night~_ he tried to convey through half-lidded sockets and a smoldering gaze. When Geno began stuttering and his colors flustered alongside his face, the protector counted that as a win and grinned cheerfully. "Need some water, hon?" He questioned innocently. "You're looking a little flushed."

Red raised a brow, grinning. "Pretty sure that's yer fault, asshole. Yah looked at him like I look at mustard. And I'm self-aware enough tah know that ain't a _sweet_ expression."

Fell had been marching to his kitchen, but at Red's amused voice, he popped his head back in and growled, "You two better not introduce filth into this house again." 

"Aww, boss, what about Geno?"

"Geno can come in here with me and I can show him our recipes." Geno perked up at that, and made his way over. He hesitated at the entrance of the kitchen though, glancing around. 

"It's okay, Gen, you're safe with these two."

He glanced back at Ink, searching his face for the sincerity that usually accompanied Ink's favorite nickname for him, before letting his shoulders relax slightly and nodding. 

Red watched Geno and Fell get along instantly, bonding over Fell's frankly excessive amount of chocolate cookbooks, before turning his attention to Ink. "So, what's _really_ goin' on, Ink?" he muttered, knowing his brother and the glitch couldn't hear them.

The smile Ink wore as he watched his husband slowly come out of his shell never faltered, but Red lived in a world where letting your guard down for even a second could lead to death. Despite his own relaxed, lazy posture, his eyes were sharp and noted the way Ink's symbols flickered for a fraction of a second. 

Knowing by the raised brow that he was caught, the artist sighed and glanced at his friend. "What do you want to know?" he was sure to match Red's low tone as he spoke, not wanting to draw attention to their conversation anymore than Red did.

Thoughtful, the fell skeleton nodded to the kitchen. "Let's start with why I had tah run around shovin' knives into my inventory. Do yah _know_ how many of those fuckin' things we got?"

Ink winced, recalling his very first meeting with Fell. Red thought it would be funny to wait until he showed up before introducing them so, yeah, he knew exactly how many sharps the house had. "Sorry." he apologized for the trouble his friend probably went through to find them all, not for him having to hide them, "Geno...he, well, you know which Sans he is."

"The depressing bastard." Red murmured, repeating his words from the last time Ink was over. He shivered at the thought of the genocides, a hand briefly lifting to press against his rib cage. "Yeah, I know him."

"He has aichmophobia. Well, kind of. It's just knives he's afraid of." The phobia was new, but Ink didn't feel the need to share that information. What was going on with Aftertale was a concern for the Stars and even then he was keeping things from Dream that Ink probably shouldn't, like Geno's situation with his SOUL and offer of returning to his world. "He's slightly agoraphobic too, but he...Geno's had some bad experiences in the house throughout the last few days. Getting him outside seemed like a good idea."

"Bringing him to _Underfell_ was a good idea." Red slid his gaze to Ink, who cringed.

"Stretch ain't exactly.... well, he's more Sans than Paps, you know? And Geno loves your guys' chocolates." 

Red nodded slowly. He'd heard stories of the Underswap's Papyrus and Sans duo, and had even met them for a while. Stretch wouldn't stop glaring when Red was simply chatting with Blue. "Aight... so why're you suddenly standing taller than me? I thought you were one of the smallest Sanses in the multiverse, so what happened?" 

Ink grinned at Red. "Why does it _irritate_ you so much?" Red blinked, turning to stare at him. "Cuz now I gotta change my nickname from shrimp to beanpole!" "Eh, you like me, Red~" "Tolerate." "Tolerate? Huh, so that's what that color is- nahhhh you _like_ me." Ink nudged him, grinning. 

Red sputtered. "Don't you have three husbands? I ain't interested in your happy ass, ya hear?!"

"I know, I'm just teasing~." Ink looked back to Geno and Fell, smiling at the softened and lighter colors. "They're really happy in there... even your brother."

"What? Impossible." 

_If only I could **show** you how happy your brother was_... Ink's smile fell slightly with consideration.

 _Could he?_ Ink didn't know. A lot of his focus went into not letting the colors all around him overwhelm his senses. Toriel suggested attempting to block the colors out at one point, but it wasn't something he got around to trying. There a lot he didn't get to try or even ask about.

Honestly, Ink knew that he really should have stayed longer. He didn't regret leaving when he did, not when something urgent had been going on at home and not when he found out Dream needed him, but there was so much more he had to learn. Maybe Toriel wasn't the best person to teach him, but she was there and ready to help. He should have taken better advantage of that.

 _Maybe Dream can help me?_ He wondered. _His abilities are similar to mine in a way, right?_

From what Ink knew, Dream and Nightmare were empaths in their own special way. He didn't really know how far either of their abilities went, but his best friend was usually up for helping him whenever he asked. Maybe not right now with the Papyrus situation, but perhaps Ink could ask once everything blew over...?

 _It's either him or Nightmare and **that** fucking asshole would sooner try to convert me than help_.

Red backed up a bit when Ink's symbols flashed red. "Uh, buddy?"

Ink blinked, the color in his gaze cooling off. "Sorry?" 

"Your lights-" 

"Oh! Oh sorry, just was on a different train of thought. What was the question?"

"I was askin' how you knew Boss was happy? Then it looked like you got angry." Red squinted at him. "Wait a sec, where's your sash?"

Ink grinned, "Oh I don't need it anymore." 

Red stared. "...mind fillin' me in or are ya just gonna leave me hanging?"

"Let's just say.... I went to the doctor and they made me _feel_..." 

"....feel better-? Oh. Damn, no way! You're shitting me right now." When Ink didn't say anything, Red shook his head. "Really?!"

Ink wiggled his brows. "Want proof?" he asked, teasingly lifting his shirt, though disrobing wasn't needed for summoning a SOUL. "Since we're such good friends, I'll let you see~"

"Put yer fuckin' shirt down, asshole!" Red hissed, nervously glancing at the kitchen where Ink's _husband_ was struggling on his tiptoes to see whatever his brother was pointing at on the annoyingly tall counter. "I don't need to see that shit!"

"Seeing is believing~"

"I believe! I fuckin' believe!"

Laughing, Ink let his clothing fall back into place. "Reaper is best friends with _literal_ Life and she made me my very own SOUL." he explained before Red could ask, sensing his confusion. "It came with a side effect though, so, to put it simply, I'm an empath. I," his smile softened, "I can literally _see_ and feel your brother's happiness. It's a little tainted from his experiences, but it's soft and warm and still such a pretty yellow. He's having a lot of fun with Geno."

Just as Ink said that, the tall skeleton noticed Geno's struggles. With a loud, dramatic sigh, he slid his hands under Geno's arms and lifted him up like one would a little kid so that the smaller skeleton to peer at the book he had spread out. "Here," he set him on the counter, "these are my savory recipes involving chocolate. Quite a few involve tomato."

 _That bastard yells at me whenever I sit on the counter!_ But Red couldn't help smiling. This wasn't a world where friends could be made easily.

"And your cats feel left out upstairs." 

Red glanced up the stairs to his brother's room, where the cats were locked away for the moment. "Huh. Ya can even sense animals?" He looked at Ink curiously. 

"Either they're cats, or you have two tiny and upset skeletons up there."

"I mean, they _have_ skeletons?" Ink grinned at him, but Red was starting to feel concerned. "Are ya okay? It ain't too much, is it?" 

Ink shrugged. "No... nah, it's actually really nice... I like seeing all these colors. Just sometimes, at the snap of a finger, the emotions change, and I sometimes feel like I'm floundering."

Red thought back to all the resets he'd had. The first few were the worst, where he saw his brother murdered, where he faced the human and was killed, then woke up just to do it over and over. That anger never left him. Not really. But having Dream and Ink protecting them and trying to influence the human to do better... well, no one was perfect, he supposed.

"Ink!" Geno called from the kitchen, kneeling on the counter excitedly with one hand bracing himself while the other waved to get his husband's attention. Seeing that he had it, he grinned. "Can we stay a little longer? I know I said only a hour but Fell wants to bake a cake-"

"It was not my idea!" Fell protested, outed by his embarrassed blush and the apron he was already wearing.

Geno ignored him. "-and he has _boxes_ for them! Stylized boxes, Ink! Like a bakery! The kids would love it if we brought home a fancy cake!"

Ink's eyes softened. "Yeah, hon. We can stay as long as you need to."

As Geno beckoned his husband over to show him the recipe they were looking at, Red smirked. _Don't need fancy powers to see yer pretty happy yerself, asshole_. When Ink got close enough, Geno shifted so he was sitting instead of kneeling and angled his head down at the book. As he did so, his scarf shifted a bit and one big, splotchy mark stood out against the white of his bone. Red choked at the sight of it. Stars, it looked like three people fought over the spot to claim the little guy. Well, Ink _did_ have three husbands... _Guess you've been really happy lately, you sly fucker_ …


	22. Good Things Don't Last (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which NSFW STUFF HAPPENS?!??!?! But, like, not as intensely as one would expect…??

Error had claimed big spoon for several nights in a row and tonight was no exception, but at this point, Ink had a question for him: "Are you trying to compensate for being shorter than me, Ru?" 

With his face shoved in the middle of Ink's back, Error's response came out muffled, "No." 

Ink smiled, twisting around so he could face his husband. He rested his pillow-cushioned arm under Error's head, then fiddled with one of the holes in his ratty nightshirt with his free hand. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were sad you aren't taller anymore." 

Error huffed out a sigh. "I altered all of your clothes, dumbass. I'm tired." He turned his back to Ink and, for a moment, the artist thought he'd finally be the bigger spoon again. Error reached for something in their bedside table and pulled out Ink's scarf. He faced his husband again and presented the scarf. "Don't make a big deal." 

The artist took it, peering curiously at Error. A sharp flash of joy sparked, and Ink recognized it at smugness. _What does he have to be smug ab- oh... **oh**_... 

The scarf was washed clean of any and all notes, except for the paint mixtures sewn into the middle-

_And Error's "I love you"._

_He... he really did... oh_... Tears fell from his eyes. Error grumbled and reached over to wipe at the tears, "Idiot, I said, **don't** make a big deal..." 

"I kept meaning to ask-" 

"Yeah. I know. Because you kept refusing to wash this stupid thing." Error smiled softly at him.

Ink smiled back. He leaned forward and kissed Error. 

It started slow and sweet, but when Error's hand drifted lower, Ink deepened their kiss and rolled him up top. Error broke the kiss to stare down at his rainbow blushing idiot. _How'd he get so lucky..?_

“So,” Ink was already breathless, taken by the view of Error above him. His symbols flickered, "Are you still too tired…? We spent all that time at Life's and we didn't get to fool around." 

Error leaned back, sitting on Ink's hips. His sockets lidded, he murmured, "What, the threesome wasn't enough for you?" He linked his fingers with Ink's, pulling them from his hips, just to slam them down by the artist’s head, entwining his tri-colored fingers with the artist’s own. 

Ink’s eyes turned to stars and he grinned up at him, "Are you jealous? Going to have your way with me, Ru~?" He gasped and whispered, "Are you turning this into a game?" Though he was planning on forming his ecto later, when it flickered to life beneath Error's hips, Ink had to admit he loved the way his husband's colors stuttered between surprise and lust. 

He was slightly more surprised when Error formed his own ecto moments after. Meanwhile, Error entertained the idea of some sexy game with Ink, but… no, he just wanted his artist for tonight. He wasn't sure when his _co-leader_ would need him, and having this much radio silence made the former destroyer's fingers itch, but Error wanted to take advantage of this quiet moment to convince some beautiful sounds from his husband. 

Error shifted his weight, grinding his hips against Ink's, earning a soft groan from the taller skeleton. Continuing the movement almost infuriatingly slow, he lowered his head next to his first's and nuzzled his scarf to the side. "Who's is that?" He growled, nuzzling one of the discolored splotches against the inked bones. 

With each movement Error made, Ink matched him, chest arched upwards so he could trail kisses up his jaw. Smirking, Ink hummed, "Not sur- _Ah!_ R-Ru!" 

Error bit next to the spot, sucking his own mark into the artist's tattooed neck. He trailed his tongues across several of the tattoos, letting them flick lightly over them. Ink arched up, wanting more, _getting_ more- 

He was retreating. "Hmm, I might be too tired after all," he smirked at him. 

Ink flashed a mischievous grin right back, "You don't want to top today, hon?" He squeezed the hands that still held him down. "That's such a shame, I love when you take control." 

Unexpectedly, Ink felt Error’s colors shift to his favorite shade of pink. A soft but vibrant pink that had Ink imagining Error holding a sign and screaming to a crowd how much he loved the idiot protector. Though tinges of the lust they felt towards each other remained at the edges, the pink just seemed to grow. The former destroyer’s smile softened. “You’re blushing.” 

“O-oh…?! Am… a-am I-?” 

He pressed a kiss to the corner of his artist’s grin, murmuring, “You are.” He moved their hands so both of Ink's were captured in one of his own. Error used his now-free hand to start unbuttoning his nightshirt- "The hell you have buttons in your sleepwear, idiot?" 

Ink couldn't help the laugh that escaped him, though it was cut off in a soft gasp when Error's fingers delicately traced some tattoos on his chest. "Y-your always so gentle u-unbuttoning them," he tried to purr. 

"That's because I'd have to sew them back on," he grumbled, dipping his head down to give attention to Ink's collarbones and sternum. As his free hand rubbed circles on his pretty rainbow ecto, drifting lower to the drawstring of his sleep pants, his mouth was occupied by Ink's chest. 

His teeth skimmed a little hard against his collarbones as he made his way back to kiss him- 

"Y-you know," Ink whispered when Error's face was just centimeters away, "I was th-thinking-" 

"Oh _stars_ ," Error sighed, though his colors and slight smile asked him to continue. 

Ink grinned, kissing him briefly. He murmured against his mouth, "I think I would love a tattoo of your… _bite_ on me." Ink perked up when Error shivered, squeezing his thighs on either side of Ink together slightly. The bastard chuckled lowly, "You want that, too?" 

He tightened his grip on the artist's wrists, "I'm not gracing that with an answer-" 

Again, he arched himself up enough to whisper, "Leave a solid enough mark, and I'll tattoo it~!" 

_...is… he's serious…?!_

Error's eyes roamed what little of Ink's body was bared for him. _Tempting… so tempting_ … but everywhere seemed to be covered in black inky swirls. He sat back, and Ink followed, supporting himself with his hands as he watched the contemplation on Error's face. Ink shrugged the nightshirt off his shoulders and fiddled with the hem of his husband’s ratty nightshirt, murmuring, "It doesn't have to be now, hon," he winked, "You can surprise m- hmff!” the artist closed his eyes, smiling into the kiss. 

“Shut up,” Error whispered when they pulled away enough to let Ink take his shirt off, “and _top_ me already.” 

Splaying his hands across Error’s chest, Ink grinned, “If I top, can I be big spoon?” 

“...” Error narrowed his eyes at the artist. 

“Oooh!” Ink’s hands trailed down to his hips. He readjusted the shorter skeleton’s weight more comfortably on his lap, thoroughly enjoying his growing blush, “How about, you top _me_. I top _you_. Then, I let _you_ be the big spoon again?” 

“You let me be the big s-spoon?” Error couldn’t resist moving against Ink’s formed thighs. It still wasn’t clear which parts he was using, but Ink was an asshole, and it was likely Error wouldn’t know until they made up their minds. “No, you top, you be big spoon. I don’t c-care. I just-” 

Ink rubbed his thumbs on the points of Error’s hips, smile softening, “I’ll take care of you, Ruru.”

———

Teetering on the edge, Error gasped and arched his back, tri-colored fingers twisted in the bedsheets below him. "Ink," he cried, sockets wide but vision hazy in a manner that went beyond poor eyesight, "Ink, Ink, _Inky_ , please!"

Looming over him, Ink grit his teeth and adjusted his hold on Error's hips, sweat glistening on his skull and dripping from his chin like a raindrop that glittered in the low, intimate light of their room only to disappear as it splattered on Error's bare ribs. "Error," he gasped, chasing their ends, "stars, Error. _Ru_."

They were both so close. Stars, Ink could _feel_ the way their pleasure skyrocketed, building more and more with each thrust until it was ready to burst. Just a little more. Just a little more and they would-

His phone rang with the special tone reserved for Dream.

" **NO!** " Error snarled, surging forward and knocking Ink onto his back when the artist reached for his cell. Still connected, the movement had tears of pleasure filling his sockets, but he blinked through the intense sensation and snarled, "Dream can wait for you to come once _I_ do, you fucker!"

"Error, y-you know i-!"

Lifting himself just to plunge back down, Error bit back his moan and growled, "No!"

———

When the phone rang for the third time, Error, energetic enough to scowl, hit accept and flung it at Ink. "I'll leave to your work since you were so eager to get back to it."

"Ru-" Ink called, covering his phone with a hand to block his panting. 

Error waved him away, legs shaky as he made his way to the door dressed in nothing but Ink's shirt from the floor. "I'm going to shower. Leave a note if you have to go…"


	23. Back to Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which being an on-call husband kinda sucks, and not in a good way.

Error waved him away, legs shaky as he made his way to the door dressed in nothing but Ink's shirt from the floor. "I'm going to shower. Leave a note if you have to go…"

_Leave a...?!_ "Err-!" The bathroom door slamming shut stopped Ink's protests. Ink flinched at the sound of the lock sliding into place. He tried to calm his breathing before bringing the phone to his head. "D-Dream? Honey, you have _terrible_ timing..." 

"I-Ink..? Is everything okay?" 

Ink ignored his question, "What happened, Dream?" 

"Uh... well I finally got Endure to agree to meet with me, but I wanted you to be there just in case things go south."

"Is it _right now?_ " 

There was a pause as Ink's anger drifted through the phone. "...it's soon." 

Fury lashing through his whole body. "Soon, meaning _when?_ "

Dream fell silent on the other end for a couple moments. "You're angry. What did I inter-" 

"It doesn't _matter_ , Dream." Ink took a noisy breath. He squeezed his eyes shut. "What time do you need me there?" 

"An hour," Dream's uncertainty sharpened to impatience. Ink grit his teeth. Dream never gets angry with Ink. Or, honestly, _ever_. But right now, Dream sounded like he was on the verge of a rage. "Blue hasn't been home since everything started. The kid's got it in his head that he's going to pick up your slack. Stretch is breathing down my neck about making sure he's safe. I'm just trying my best, Inkblot. I'm trying to stay understanding about your family's needs and _your_ needs, but the multiverse isn't going to stop having problems simply because your _family_ is having some." 

"My _family's_ problems involve-" 

"Nightmare. Who is also involved with _Endure_. Which makes it both _your family's_ problem, and mine. And _I need your fucking help_. So, are you going to show up or not?" 

Ink bit back a sigh. He didn't want Dream's ire... he... well, he didn't really understand why he'd suddenly been getting angry with Dream. He really is trying his hardest to be understanding. He's been working twice as hard while Ink's been _fucking_ around at home. It wasn't right that Ink's fury had been flaring so much. 

"Yeah. Dream, I'm s-" the guardian hung up, and guilt sunk into Ink's bones. _Why does it feel like he's being punished...?_

He glanced to the bathroom door, wondering if Error would let him in. He had an hour before he needed to leave, and he sure as hell didn't want to leave some _fucking_ note... He wrapped the filthy bedsheet around himself and knocked loudly on the door. "Ru-?"

For a single moment, Ink's breath stuttered to a stop as he was thrown into the icy cold depths of an ocean. Deep, deep blue that only grew deeper and darker the further he sank into it. _I'm drowning_... he thought in a daze, limbs sluggish as the color began melding into a bluish gray. _I...I'm drowning... I'm drowning_...

A quiet, muffled sniffle barely broke through the watery fog clogging his head. Seconds later, a cut off sob sounded, the blue around him darkening with the sound. _Crying...?_

Oh.

Oh, this... this wasn't... 

Gasping, Ink pulled himself free from the clutches of the deep, dark sorrow he unknowingly fell into. "Ru?" he choked, knocking on the door again and clutching the handle almost desperately as a wave of color crashed over him, trying to drag him back into it's depths. Trying to _drown_ him in sadness. "Error, please! Can I come in?"

"Fuck _off_ , Ink!" Error shouted, voice hitching as his breath stuttered in his chest. "Just fucking go if you need to leave!"

"Error, open the door!" Why was he crying? Why was his husband crying?!

"No!"

"Error!"

"M-mommy...?" PJ whispered nervously, head peeking out from his bedroom door. A few seconds later, Goth's little white hood popped out beneath his. "Mommy? Why are you yelling?"

Ink's heart stopped. "O-oh, daddy...daddy is taking a shower, honey. Mommy has to talk louder for him to hear me. I'm sorry though, sweetie. I'll just go inside so you can sleep." Desperately, he hissed. _"Error!"_

The lock unlatched and the door swung open, a dripping, towel clad Error appearing with a bright smile Ink could instantly tell was fake. "Sorry about that, baby abomination. Do you want me to tuck you and your brother back into bed?"

PJ shook his head with a wide grin. "I can tuck Gothy in and Gothy can tuck me in!"

That wasn't how it worked, but Error nodded with a soft smile. "Okay, baby brats. Goodnight."

"Night!"

The moment their door closed, Error turned a wet glare to Ink. "Fuck **off** , you fucking prick." he hissed in a whisper. "If you need to go to work, then just _go_. Dream obviously needs you with how many times he fucking called. And it's obvious you miss work! Couldn't at least pull out before reaching for your phone? What, were you going to chat while fucking me?"

"E-Error..." he whispered, watching with stunned eyes as the darkening blue began swirling with bright, toxic green.

Catching the way his husband's eyes were slightly too far to the left to be meeting his glare, Error snarled and spun on his heel. "Fuck this." he growled, dropping his towel and returning to his shower. "Fuck you and your fucking nosy ass powers. Stay out of my emotions, Ink! _And get in here!_ "

Ink was quick to obey, lest he give their children anymore reasons to worry. 

Carefully shutting the door behind him, he walked up to the curtain his husband was now hiding behind and hesitantly called out, "Ru..."

"No!" Error snapped, a burst of red appearing in his sad mix of color. "Fuck off. You don't get to call me that you...you..." The grew when Error's words trailed off into a sob. _Why is he crying?! Why?!_ "You don't get to call me that. Not right now, you fucking asshole."

"Error," he felt helpless. "What did I do, hon?"

Error's laugh hurt to hear. "Just go."

"I..." he swallowed. "I don't have to be there for an hour."

"Yeah? Good for you. You get an hour to relax before running off. Heh, gives _you_ enough time to shower. Gotta wipe the scent of sex off of you so that Dream," the green briefly overtook the blue, "doesn't know you spent time you could have used on protecting fucking your _wh-_ " another sob cut Error off. When he continued speaking, it was obvious the sentences didn't match. "What's the point of staying here if it's just an hour? The faster you leave, the faster you come back."

"...Error, I...I _have_ to. It involves Aftertale's Pap-"

"Now," Error interrupted, "it involves him. It involves Aftertale's Papyrus now, and next time it'll involve someone else, and then someone else, and so and so on. There'll always be a reason for Dream to call you and you'll always _go_. How long is it this time? A day? Three?"

"I...I..." he didn't know. Didn't even think to ask.

Error chuckled bitterly, reading his silence easily. "So I won't even be able to give PJ a day to look forward to? I'll just have to tell him that his mother will be gone for fuck knows how long and not to be sad because he'll return. Maybe in a day. Maybe in a week. Surely it won't take a _month_ , this time."

Against his own wishes, red sparked to life in his own SOUL. "Ru, why are you acting like this? You _know_ what my job entitles. You know that me going keeps all of us safe. Why do you suddenly have a problem with-"

"You fucking _came_ in me." Error hissed, the words wet, "You spilled your fucking cum in me and the _second_ that phone rang, you reached out for it. Fuck, since the _first_ call you stopped having sex with me and started going through the motions of fucking me until you came. You," his voice cracked, "you weren't even _looking_ at me when you finished. _You were looking at the phone!_ "

_No... No, that... that can't be right._

"I know what sex looks like when the person fucking you doesn't care." Error rasped. "Ink, you... The moment your fucking phone rang, the _second_ your duty appeared, you stopped caring. And you don't even have a missing SOUL to blame it on."

"Error..."

"Leave." His husband repeated, obviously crying. "Please, squid, please just leave."

Ink hesitated. He wanted to reach out to him, to try to explain, to get him to understand, or maybe to understand for himself, but... 

_Was... was he really that distracted...? No... no, he... he wouldn't do that to Error_... But he couldn't remember. _A fine time for my fucking memory to fail_... 

He clenched his fist and turned towards the door, murmuring, "I'm sorry..." 

Error didn’t respond, but his breath was still too shaky and wet to be anything other than stifled sobs. 

Ink left, shutting the door gently behind himself. He doesn't bother taking a shower. Instead he puts his clothes on numbly, then takes all the sheets off and throws them in the laundry basket. The meeting between Endure and Dream isn't for an hour, but Ink finds that he doesn't want to be anywhere. Error wants him to go? Ink'll give him the space. 

He summoned his brush to his hand, swiping a portal to his old haunt, the Anti-Void. He hates it with a cold passion, but it's someplace empty where he can try and collect his thoughts and emotions before meeting with Dream. 

_Stars, there were too many of them...!_

He doubled over and puked, ink spilling across the white floor. 

_How long has it been since he'd done something like this...?_ he can't help but laugh. "Stupid... stupid stupid **stupid** squid.... what have you done...?" 

He moved away from the only splotch of color for miles and sat. _Why even bother going anywhere? Or doing anything? What's the point of getting this stupid SOUL if it's just going to hurt himself and others so much? Why... why doesn't Error trust me enough to **talk** to me...?_

Though he tried to keep his expression void of emotion, the tears started to flowed. The memory of Error's ocean of dark blue resurfaces, and Ink's tears left with nothing to stop them.

———

Dream looked up as Ink stepped through his paint portal. Before the portal closed, the guardian caught sight of the Anti-Void. Alarm flashed through him, so bright that Ink had to squint and turn away from him. "What's the gameplan, Dream?"

"I-Ink-?" 

"Listen," Ink's voice was void of emotion. As if he were tapped out. "I don't want to talk about me or mine. We're here because of Nightmare and Endure, and if we're not going to stay focused, then I'll just go home." 

Dream stared at him, SOUL clenching at the emotional turmoil Ink was trying to hide. "Okay..."

"Did you send Blue home?" Ink murmured, noticing that there didn't seem to be any signs of the easily excitable Sans. At Dream's silent nod, he nods back, approving despite the lack of expression on his face. "Good. Now, what's the plan?'

"...As you already know, Endure agreed to meet. It took some convincing, but he didn't seem openly hostile towards me, which is more than I hoped for considering he's working under my brother. Either Nightmare hasn't started trying to tarnish his image of me or my help with his self defensive is making him slow to convince. Either way, it's good for me. Still," he glanced hesitantly at Ink, "having backup means I won't be so easily overcome if he _does_ decide to attack."

"That's why I'm here..." Ink reminded, the words practically a mumble. "Is there anything else I need to know? Location? What you plan to say? Or is that good enough for us to head out?"

"I told him you'd probably be there and if he felt uncomfortable, he could bring one of his... new friends..." 

Ink stared at him. "So... you gave him potential leverage over you." 

"But you're here-" 

" _I almost didn't show_ , Dream." The words were a murmur. The intended bite not there. But somehow, the guardian flinched from Ink. The artist glanced away. "Anything else?" 

"That's basically it. We'll be in a neutral route, so hopefully we won't be bothered." 

Ink instantly saw the logic behind "neutral". If it were pacifist, Dream and Ink might get blamed for Aftertale not having such a peaceful route, then attacked. Genocide would just remind him of home and throw him into rage or anxiety. "Okay."

"If we can get him to agree to go home, Aftertale'll stop deteriorating." 

" _Just let it die! Please, Ink...! J-just let it go...!_ " Ink shut his eyes against the echo of Geno’s words. "Maybe," he murmured. "All we can do is try." 

Dream frowned slightly at Ink. "C'mon, let's go... we don't wanna be late." 

Ink followed Dream through his portal. He tried to shove down his growing emotions as it closed behind him, but seeing Cross and Endure across the grasses of neutral Waterfall weren't- Ink narrowed his sockets on the two. 

Endure was remarkably easy to read. His colors stood out brightly against the cool blues and greens of Waterfall. The cautious oranges, the flickers of angry reds, the pastel blue relief that Dream kept his word. 

But Ink was focused on Cross, and the stone-like shield around his colors. 

Dream approached the two, a bright smile on his face. "Glad you could meet with us!"

Endure's smile was a fraction of the size of what a classic Papyrus was capable of. "Dream." he greeted quietly. He offered nothing to Ink. Not a smile, a greeting, or even the cold, silent nods Cross sent in both their ways. "It is...nice, I think. To see you. It is nice to see you."

Dream returned his smile with a brighter one. "Thank you for agreeing to this, Endure. I know I wasn't able to answer every question you had the first time we met, so I hope that this meeting will allow me to do so now. Before we begin, can I ask how you've been?"

Endure seemed unaware of the intent behind Dream's innocent question, but Cross' eyes narrowed. "He's been good." The white and black clad skeleton answered for the taller skeleton. "He's been doing well with us."

_Smart_ , Ink reluctantly thought, _the more at ease Endure feels with Dream, the easier it'll be for him to influence any positivity he starts to show. Cross is trying to keep him distant. Cautious_. It was a good strategy.

"That's great!" Dream's smile never faltered. "I'm glad you're fitting in. Oh, but this isn't about me, of course! Please," his gaze softened, "ask your questions. I'm not all-knowing, I'm afraid, but I can do my best to answer."

"My world is falling apart," Endure hesitantly began. "It... wasn't a good place, but there are good people there. My brother vanished at some point which is why I went looking for him-" _said as if it were that easy to suddenly learn how to AU-hop?_ Ink wisely stayed quiet. "-but I still haven't found him. I want to fix my world before I find my brother, and sources tell me I'd have to... _remove_ the human. How do I do that?" 

_Oh boy_... The Stars thought simultaneously. 

Ink narrowed his gaze on Cross, trying to peer beyond the shield, but being unable. His thoughts drifted to Cross' situation, where he held part of a human's SOUL and Determination with his own. It made him unique, though his world's problems weren't human-centric, surprisingly. It made Ink wonder if a similar solution could be granted? If End somehow took in the human's SOUL into himself? Though the battle would be-

"It's difficult to say," Dream began slowly. "If you're talking murder, that will not work. Humans have the ability to go back to their Save points, so any deaths they incur are essentially erased." 

"But I remember the human." 

"You, your brother and the human are three main pillars to keeping your world together-" 

End fidgeted, "I've _tried_ simply talking to them, but they do not stay their path. They never did." 

_That's what Geno had to endure. Heh_. Ink clenched his jaw to keep his face neutral. 

"Removing the human will still leave your world to deteriorate, End," Dream spoke gently. 

"Then _save the others,_ " he begged. " _Please_. If the human won't stop, then the monsters should at least be spared from that!" 

Ink blinked and looked at him. _That... that's what I was thinking when Geno and I were talking_... 

"We cannot create whole worlds-" 

"We can try," Ink murmured.

Dream turned to him with a smile frozen in place. "Ink, think about what you're saying."

"I am." he replied, moving his gaze to meet Endure's stare. There was so much anger, but there was hope, too. "Dream and I can try to make a world for the monsters of Aftertale to inhabit, but something like that takes time."

Endure's slight smile dropped. "I...I don't _have_ time."

"We know, Endure." Dream soothed, smiling at Ink like the warm curve of his mouth was a weapon. "Which is why something like that isn't an option. It would take _months_ at the least."

"Then why offer it?!" The Papyrus snapped, a surge of anger outlining him in bright flame-like red. 

When Dream floundered for a response, Ink spoke up yet again, "We can move the monsters in your world into a preexisting world for the time being. We'd have to monitor it constantly in case they would need to be briefly pulled out to allow a reset to occur, but it would give them somewhere safe to remain until the world is completed. One without a human to cause harm. But," here, he hesitated, "we would still need a few days to track down the right world to turn to. When the day comes to move everyone, we would need your help, too."

"...Why?" A question wasn't a no. Good.

"They know you. Everyone would be more willing to trust you than they would us."

Endure stared at them, the anger simmering down as the hope shone brighter. "How long will the world take to be built after everyone is safe?" 

Ink shut his sockets, unsure, but unwilling to let the others know. _"Surely it won't take a **month** , this time."_ Error's bitter words flashed through his mind, and Ink found himself mentally apologizing to Error. _It would probably be three months, at **least** , but... well, I've never created a world before_... 

_I've also never had a SOUL before_... 

Ink opened his sockets, determination flaring in his SOUL. "After everyone is safe, give me at least four months." _That way I can take breaks_. "Dream won't be able to help much with the creation of the world, but he can make sure everyone is still safe in the meantime." 

Endure stared down the artist, judging his words to be sincere, but still not fully trusting him. "What about my brother?" 

"There's an entire multiverse," Dream answered. "It might be a while before we find him." 

_Oh... that's right... Dream doesn't know that the Sans Endure is looking for doesn't exist anymore_... Ink bottled that emotion down. 

Gaze flicking between them, Endure slowly nodded. "Okay. Let's meet up in two days to get them out of there." 

_TWO-?!_

"Sounds like a plan!" Dream brightened. Ink nodded slowly.

When Endure smiled again, it truly seemed genuine. “Two days. We’ll meet up at my house in Aftertale, and we’ll get everyone out.” His gaze finally flickered to Ink, slowly dragging up the artist. “Then you’ll start creating a new world for them.” 

Ink stared blankly back, though the beginnings of irritation lingered in his mind. _Just because he was a protector doesn’t mean he’ll take orders from anyone_ … “We’re in agreement,” the artist murmured. Ink’s eyes flashed to Cross, but the damn skeleton wasn’t letting a single drop of emotion out. Neither through his expression nor through his colors. Returning his attention to the Papyrus, the artist said, “Take care of yourself, Endure.” 

End stared for a moment or two longer, before saying goodbye to Dream and leaving with Cross. Once the two were gone, Dream portalled them back to the Doodle Sphere and grabbed his arms and shook him. “Idiot! What were you thinking?! You’ve _never_ been able to create an entire world before! And you’re saying you can do it in _four months?!_ Are you _insane?!_ ” 

“Let go…” he spoke softly. When the guardian didn’t move, he spoke a little louder, stress drifting in, “D-Dream, let me go.” 

Mercifully, he did, and Ink immediately pulled his phone out and called Error. 

_“Hey, dumbass. Leave your fucking voice in my mail. I’ll probably delete it.” Beep._

“No…” Ink whispered, desperately calling again. “No… no come on Error, pick up.” 

_“Hey, dumbass. Leave your fu-”_

“Please…” 

_“Hey, dumb-”_

“P-please pick up…!” 

_“Hey, d-”_

“Ruru, please…! ” 

_“Voicemail box is full.”_

**“Fuck,”** Ink gripped his phone tighter, sinking to his knees in his Doodle Sphere living room. He pulled up the messages and tapped on the one for Error, but… why were they so blurry…? A hand fell on his shoulder and warm pastel yellow concern pushed the waves of blue back. Ink raised his bleary eyes to meet Dream’s yellow ones. “D-Dream…” something was in his throat, making it harder for the words to come out, so he said it in a whisper, “I… I think I…” He sniffed and roughly wiped his tears away. “Uhm,” he shuddered and, deciding it was easier, he stared down at his phone instead. “I… after this is over… I think Blue should take over for me as the Protector.” 

“Inkblot… hon, he isn’t ready…” 

“Yes, he is. He _will_ be. I’ll… I’ll teach him how to patch worlds. He’s already got the enthusiasm and optimism…” 

Dream knelt in front of Ink. “What is this really about, Ink?” 

Ink squeezed his eyes shut, and all he saw was Error’s blue drowning, drowning _drowning_ \- 

A flash of yellow brought Ink back. “D-Dream?” 

The guardian stared sadly at him. “Do you need to stay here again?” 

“I don’t know,” he whispered. “I don’t know what to do…! There…. _nothing_ I do seems to be the right answer...!” He reached out and grabbed Dream’s arm. “Y-you’re an empath too, right?” 

Dream blinked, nodding slightly. “Mostly. My- _Nightmare_ and I aren’t true empaths, like you likely are, but we can sense and, to a degree, influence emotions. Experience taught us to shield our emotions from others, so I taught that to Blue.” 

_“Stay out of my emotions, Ink! The **second** your duty appeared, you **stopped caring.** And you don’t even have a missing SOUL to-”_ The artist shut his eyes against the memory and the flood of guilt and soul-wrenching pain it gave him. _Purple..? What a pretty color for such a horrible pain_ … He gripped Dream’s arm tighter, focusing on his positivity to try and let it soothe his sorrow. “Sh-shield…? Dream… Dream, please can you teach me that?”

A weary sigh escaped the guardian’s smile. “It’s quite simple. Just imagine a shield or a barrier, and hide your thoughts and emotions behind it. The trick is to maintain it takes a lot of mental power initially, but meditation works really well for it.” Dream captured Ink’s gaze, worry lingering in his own. “Inkblot, are you going to be okay?” 

“...when this is over, I’m going to turn my phone off for a bit.” 

“Yeah, you’ll need the rest-” 

“It won’t be for me.” 

Understanding was slow to dawn on Dream’s face, but when it did, he retrieved his hands from his best friend. “He hasn’t returned your calls…” 

“I don’t know if he even wants to see me, Dream,” Ink whispered hoarsely. “But we don’t have time to worry about that yet. We have to find-” 

“I’ll ask Core.” Dream stood up. "Do you want me to come with you? Maybe I can help?" 

Ink wasn't so sure, but what's the worst that can happen? Quite a bit, actually... Ink scrubbed at his sockets, murmuring, "Yeah... let me just text them..."


	24. Dinner with the Fam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which family dinners tend to be the best time for conversations to happen!

Going through Error didn't seem like a wise decision considering the way he was already ignoring his calls, so Ink skipped over his name with a pang in his chest and went directly for the group chat Reaper set up. "The Husbands <3" came up quickly enough and managed to pull a slight smile from him as he sent off a short text informing them that he was stopping by with Dream.

Not expecting a reply, he went to pocket his phone only to be stopped by a series of rapid notifications. "U-um," scrolling through them, Ink chuckled a bit; pleasantly surprised, though, really, he shouldn't have been. "Are you fine with eating burgers?"

Dream blinked, confused. "I'm...sorry? Burgers? Ink, what does that have to do with-"

"They're about to have dinner." he interrupted, his small smile growing more when Geno's style of texting suddenly changed. Reaper, judging from the sheer amount of emojis. And the fact that Err- his smile fell. "Geno wants to know if you're okay with burger or if you'd like something else. Um, it'll have to be something that doesn't require cutting though."

"I..." Dream faltered, suddenly looking a little unsure, "I don't want to intrude on dinner, Ink. I can try to help you resolve things afterward, if you'd like?"

"Dreamboat," still nothing from Error, "I already told them you're coming. You can't back out now."

Dream fidgeted with his gloves, shifting his weight between his feet before sighing. "I... I suppose I can... y-yeah, burgers sound great." 

Ink nodded, letting The Husbands know. Within seconds, more confirming messages came through. Still... Ink pocketed his phone and summoned his brush. "Are you ready?" 

He chuckled dryly, "As I'll ever be..." he smiled to Ink, hoping it was convincing, and glad that the new empath couldn't sense below his shield. 

The artist nodded, tightening his grip on the brush before swiping a portal open to his home. They stepped through, stopping at the front door. For a moment, they paused, sensing all the emotion bundles inside. Once Ink determined they were all his true family, he opened the door, letting Dream in.

"I'm hom-"

In a whirlwind of color and clumsy movement, a small pink dragon went flying directly into Ink's face where it collided with his forehead _hard_. Squeaking with the impact, the little thing backed up just enough for Ink to see the splotch of darker pink on it's face before it squeaked excitedly and flung itself into his face _again_ , apparently forgetting it just did so. Before the process could repeat a third time, Ink caught the little guy between his hands and blinked down at it in awe. Was this-?

"MAMA!" PJ shrieked excitedly, running in from the kitchen with ketchup smeared around his mouth. At his excitement, the little dragon Ink was holding flapped its wings and wiggles around joyfully in Ink's grasp. "Mama," PJ called again, clinging to his legs happily, "daddy said you had ta go! He made a funny face when he said it so I did the thingy you showed me for the Mommy-Dragon so he could play with it but now you're back so daddy doesn't have to!"

_Ooohhhh fffuuckkk_ , Ink had to bite back his immediate urge to cry. Instead, he grinned to PJ, "Did you have it hit his face, hon?" 

At PJ's guilty, _"Noooo"_ , Ink's grin widened. He picked up the child, holding him on his hip and gave him the dragon back. "Here, big guy. Remember Dream?" 

Dream smiled at the kid, eyes sparkling with stars. But PJ frowned at him. "No...?" 

"I-it's okay, it's probably been a while. How's it going PJ?" 

PJ tucked his head under Ink's chin, still frowning at Dream. "Why do you keep mommy away?" 

Both Dream and Ink gave each other an uncomfortable look. Ink nuzzled his son, "Baby, you know my work sometimes keeps me away for a while. It's Dream's work too." He kissed his head and smiled brightly at him. "Ooo you want to learn something new? I bet Daddy would love to teach you to make the dolls." 

PJ _immediately_ brightened. "Really?!" His eyes widened, and his star eye light came back. "CAN I BRING DOLLS TO LIFE?!" 

_I'm starting to regret suggesting this_... "H-Have him teach you to make them first, _then_ try, okay, buddy?"

Only really half listening at that point, PJ nodded absently and squirmed until Ink set him free. "Daddy!" he called as he took off back towards the kitchen. His voice was loud enough to carry over even as he disappeared from their line of sight, "Daddy, teach me how to make dolls!"

Error's response was too low for either of them to catch, but the sound of his voice alone was enough to make Ink's smile fall into something much sadder. "Error..."

"Ink," Dream murmured, "maybe... maybe this was a bad idea? I should go while I still-"

Before he could finish, Geno stuck his head out of the kitchen with an unsure expression. At the sight of Ink and Dream, he relaxed and shot the two a smile and wave. "Hi, Ink. Hi, um, Dream. Your plates are ready on the table if you still plan on joining us."

Ink glanced to Dream. "Heh, you're suckered in now." 

"Th-thank you Geno." Dream waved back to Geno, just to drop his hands down and mess with his gloves. 

Geno disappeared back into the kitchen, and seconds later, Goth was racing up the stairs to grab everyone for dinner. 

Ink nudged Dream. "Come on." The artist led the way to the dining room an showed Dream his spot. 

Reaper had splurged when Respite and Spright agreed to stay with them. The table allowed for four people to sit on each of the long sides with another seat at the heads of the table. It looked like Spright would be eating at the head while Dream took Spright's spot. 

_Yeah, having Dream between Spright and myself is probably a better idea than trying to have him by Error_... Ink thought to himself. Dream got himself situated while Ink went into the kitchen to grab waters for everyone.

As soon as he stepped inside, Error turned around with two plates in hand and met his eyes. Both froze, neither entirely prepared to deal with their first face to face without the distraction of dinner to ease the awkwardness. 

"Daddy?" Hovering around his legs with his little dragon on his head, PJ looked up at Error with a confused expression, unsure as to why his father suddenly stopped stock still in the middle of the kitchen. "Daddy, I'm hungry! You have my food!"

"...Right." Error murmured, shaking his head a bit and dropping his eyes from Ink's flickering stare. "C'mon, baby abomination. Let's get you settled in your seat so you can eat."

"Err-"

But he went ignored, the destroyer's gaze still turned away as he bypassed him for the table in the dining room. Dejected, Ink's shoulders slumped. Geno was staring at him worriedly from the counter with two more plates in his own hands, but he waved the concern in the smaller's eye off with a small, unconvincing smile. "I'm fine." he reassured.

Geno had working eyes though. "Ink, you're-"

“I'm _fine_ , Geno." he insisted, moving to pull glasses from the cabinet.

Geno watched him with a frown as he filled all nine cups with ice, then water. Ink looked around for the tray they'd been using specifically for moments like this, then set the glasses on the tray, though his attention had drifted to the cold red that simmered in Error's colors as he entered the dining room. "Do you need any help here, Gen?" 

The glitch shook his head. "No. I was just making sure everything's turned off. The only dishes we'll need to clean are out on the table, and we have leftovers cooling on the counter." He walked over to Ink, setting his hand on the other's arm just as the artist was about to pick up the drink tray. "Hon, you _know_ you and Error are going to have to talk, right?" 

"Heh," though it was a laugh, it came out more an exhale of noise. "Error and I aren't really known for talking openly with each other... We..." Ink's fingers twitched and he looked away. "We've never really _needed_ to talk about anything that bothered us because I keep forgetting everything…" 

"But you're remembering more." 

"Am I?" Ink looked to Geno, smiling sadly. "I think I'm just messing up more." He kissed the smaller skeleton on the forehead, "Come on, let's go in there before it gets too awkward." 

Ink picked up the tray and entered the room, unsurprised to find Respite, Reaper, Goth and Spright getting settled. He tried to catch Error's eye, but his first was focused on PJ, trying to convince him to put the dragon away.

"But...but...." sockets growing wide and watery, PJ clutched the little dragon to his chest and whines, "he's _hungry_ , daddy! He's gonna... he's gonna starve!"

"PJ," Error sighed, "he's paint. He can't starve. C'mon, squirt. Just for dinner, okay? You're going to use up too much magic keeping him up and about. Aren't you hungry?"

"Yes..."

"Well, you're going to end up using your burger as a pillow if you don't put the little abomination away."

Pouting, PJ carefully pulled out a folded piece of paper and smoothed it out right before his dinner plate. With a look of pouty concentration, he squinted at the slightly wrinkled paper and attempted to recall the steps Ink taught him. When the artist went to remind him of them; however, Ink found himself being loudly shushed by his own son.

"I can do it! Watch!"

Sockets nearly closed with his intense squint, PJ slowly yet fluidly eased the dragon back onto the paper.

"Oh, wow." Dream murmured, impressed. "That's pretty advanced for such a little guy, Ink."

Ink's expression was soft. "He's a quick study. He got that from his papa," after another failed attempt to meet Error's gaze, Ink grinned at his son. PJ was still pouting at the paper. "Hey, we can play with them later, okay hon?" He rubbed PJ's shoulder, and his son nodded, carefully folding his paper and putting it back in his pocket. Again, Ink tried meeting Error's gaze, but his first was now sipping ice water. 

Geno glanced around the table hesitantly smiling at everyone. "I... I hope it's to everyone's liking!" 

"It looks perfect, hon," Reaper smiled softly at him.

A little doubtful, Geno glanced over his plate. Simple burgers with fresh lettuce, pickles, cheese for those who wanted it, and- he cringed. "The tomatoes look like they've been murdered."

"Babe, you used a pizza cutter on them. They're the prettiest slices anyone could have managed to make like that." Winking, the god added a flirty, "They're almost as pretty as _you_."

Error looked at his brother with a frown. "First of all? Ew. Not in front of my food. Second, they're _tomatoes?_ Who gives a fuuu-fudge. Who gives a fudge _what_ they look like?"

"Daddy was gonna say a bad word." PJ whispered across the table to Goth.

Gasping, the younger brother covered his mouth in shock and looked at his dunkle with wide eyes. "Bad dunkle!"

"What?!" Looking between the children, the destroyer scowled. "I didn't say one!"

"Ya bro, not dis time," Spright grinned at him. 

Error stared down at his plate, grumbling, "Who's side you on anyway?" 

"Da lil dudes' sides!" Spright chuckled. 

Dream stayed quiet, smiling through his out-of-place feeling at the table. It was clear there was a lot of love with the little family, but the tension between Error and Ink... Dream glanced between the two, deciding it wasn't his place to say anything. Yet. He tugged his gloves off glanced at everyone. "Um... thank you for letting me come over for dinner... I didn't mean to-" 

"Oh, don't worry about it!" Geno smiled at their guest. "You're not intruding! A friend of Ink's is a friend of this family." 

"That is, if you're _really_ Dream." Reaper tilted his head to stare curiously at Dream. 

To Error's cold satisfaction, the guardian fidgeted with discomfort and his smile wavered. Ink blinked at Reaper, scolding, "Of course this is Dream!" 

Reaper glanced at Ink, sending a flirty smirk his way. "Just makin' sure, babe." 

Respite exchanged glances at Spright, who shook his head and shrugged, _I’ll tell you later_. Res nodded and focused on his plate. 

Unsure of what he should say, Dream turned to his plate and settled for trying his food. When was the last time he had a burger...?

When...

_When was the last time he had a home cooked meal?_

Heh, probably not since Blue's taco- oh, gods. Hesitating with the burger just before his mouth, Dream tried not to look panicked. Geno wasn't a swap, right? He... he _could_ cook, right? Right?!

Swallowing nervously, he tried glancing around the table. PJ and Goth both had ketchup smeared on their faces, but that looked to be from the fries. Homecooked? Frozen? Dream couldn't tell.

_No one's_ burgers were touched yet though.

Concerned he was about to send himself to an early grave, Dream took a small bite.

Near instantly, Geno blurted, "Is it okay?"

Everyone else started on theirs as Dream slowly chewed the burger. His eye lights shifted to stars, and he found himself taking another bite, just to try and savor it, before taking another bite and another and- oh why was it gone? Dream stared stupidly at his hands, then looked on his plate, then under it, just to be sure. 

Ink laughed, "You ate it already!" 

The _dismay_ on the guardian's face was enough to send Goth into a giggling fit. Reaper fully relaxed into his chair, nudging Geno, "I'm not an expert, but I think he likes it, Gen." 

Error muttered, "Course he likes it, Geno's the best cook in this house." 

Ink tried to ignore the pang in his chest. And the flare of guilt in Error's. 

_Of course, no one at the table had tried Ink's cooking, except for myself and PJ.... Unless Ink cooked for...?_ the destroyer shot a side-glance between Ink and Dream, expression unreadable. When his eyes met his first's, Error dropped his gaze to PJ, "Got it handled there, buddy?" 

Mouth full, PJ nodded eagerly instead of answering.

Error nodded back to him and stood. Ink immediately looked up to him, starting to scoot back, but the destroyer skipped over him to stare at Dream. "Do you have a minute?" 

Dream, still pouting that he finished his burger, looked up and nodded, scooting out of his seat and followed Error up the stairs. 

Helplessly, Ink stared after them. _Sh-should I follow...?_

As if sensing his uncertainty, Error glanced back over his shoulder and narrowed his eyes. His emotions were a wild mix of simmering reds, flashing greens, blues... Stars, there was so much at once. Yellows for their son who was waving bye at his father with a messy hand, pinks for the concern hiding wink Reaper sent him... so much. Too much, really. Ink couldn't depend on the mix alone for an answer.

But he knew Error long before he gained these abilities. The tense line of his shoulders, his narrowed sockets, that inexpressive slant to his mouth... _Back off_ , it said.

Eyes dropping to the table, Ink remained seated. It was hard not watching his best friend and husband leave, but he didn't let himself look up until they were gone.

"Ink?" Geno called out, looking at him with concerned eyes. "Do you want to play a game? Spright taught Gothy and PJ a word game involving colors."

Smiling at the attempt to distract him, Ink nodded.


	25. A Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a necessary conversation occurs.

If Dream were to be honest -something he found himself struggling with a lot lately- then he would have admitted that he was more than just a little fearful that Error planned to kill him. He wasn't a pushover in battle, but neither was Error. And Dream...

Well, he wasn't actually sure who would win in a match like that. Positivity verses Destruction, one on one? Those weren't odds he was used to.

When the door to what looked like a playroom shut and the lock clicked into place, he tensed; unsure of his survival but unwilling to die without a fight.

And then, with an unreadable expression, Error turned to him and said the one thing he didn't expect:

"I need you to give up on Ink... _for now.”_

Dream stared at him, tension still clear in his shoulders, but confusion in his eyes. "...what...?" 

He sighed. "It isn't a good time for you to be trying to start a relationship with him." 

"Error, what are you-?" 

"Don't act like an idiot." Error frowned at him, but was otherwise still unreadable. "And don't treat me like one either. I know you..." He grit his teeth, starting to appear angry, "I know you two have feelings for each other." 

_Ink has...?_ Dream stared at him, the confusion stewing in his gaze. _Ink has feelings for me..? But Error-?_

"Now, I'm not sure why he invited you here. Probably some 'work-related' excuse, but..." Error glanced to the side. "Just... not right now... please...."

Dream has been alive for a very, very long time, though he knows very well that people mistakenly think him much younger than he is. Guardian or not, he's an optimist, and quite a feel people tend to pair being optimistic with being young and naive. The crueler ones, like his brother, look at his hopefulness for peace and call him _stupid_ , but he's not. He's not stupid, or an idiot, or an innocent fool.

But he felt like all three of those things when he started sputtering, shocked at the fact that Error of all skeletons said please. To... _to him!_

_Error knows how to be polite?!_ Is his first thought, and it's terrible. Dream knows there's more to the other skeleton than the simple _destroyer_ he has the most experience with. He thought back to being called to battle then later kissed by a clearly intoxicated Error and feels… guilty, especially when he remembered just how much Ink loves this person. _I don't really know anything about him, do I_ …

When he went too long without a response, Error continued speaking. "I... Look, I know you like him, guardian. Love, even. It's clear in the way you look at him. I don't blame you." his laugh was sad. More of a harsh exhale than a laugh at all. "...I don't blame Ink for returning your feelings, either. I'm not blind. You're... you're everything good in this fucking multiverse that Ink loves enough to want to protect it."

Dream's eyes widen, the golden glow of his eye lights flaring slightly in surprise. "W-wha-"

But he's spoken over. "You're nice and happy and kind but you're not a pushover. You tell Ink off when he's being a little shit instead of letting him walk all over you and he likes that. Maybe the idiot doesn't know it, but he has a type, and you fit a lot of what he likes: Cute, strong, a little stubborn..."

_Error just called me cute_ , he thinks, dazed. 

"Your smile is literal fucking sunlight and you...you pull him toward you. And I..." 

When Error's voice cracked, Dream forced himself to pay better attention. When he does, he took note of how much smaller Error suddenly looked. _He's...he's **making** himself smaller. But why? Why is he curling his shoulders in like that?_

"I get it," Error continued, "I get that he likes you and I'm... I'm not mad, okay? I'm sharing him with two others. I can share him with someone else, too. But... not..." his breath stuttered, "not now, guardian. I- _Dream_ , please not now. Please, just.. please, please, please just... back off. Hide your feelings a little longer. Just... j-just a little longer, please."

_D-do I comfort him...? Wait... wait didn't Ink say something about touch not being good...? W-what do I...?_ "E-Error..." Dream's hands fluttered in the air around him, partially reaching to him. Thinking better of it, he pulled them back. Error watched him warily. Dream ended up pocketing his hands and murmuring, "That... that isn't why I'm..." he fidgeted on his feet, but kept Error's gaze. "He was really upset. The second we were done talking to En- um, the Aftertale Papyrus, he was trying to call you." Dream focused on keeping his voice gentle and soothing. "He didn't tell me what happened, but he was... he was scared he messed something up with you, and more scared that you were going to hate him for what happened with our conversation with the Papyrus... I just asked if he needed help. I-I wasn't aware that my presence here made you uncomfortable Error."

But while he doesn't deny Error's claims, Dream doesn't confirm them either. His silence said more on the subject than he ever could. _I love him_ , it shouted without shame. 

Dream just… couldn't bring himself to say the words to refute the claim. 

Error's smile was bitter, but with his eyes turned away, Dream had no way of telling if that bitterness spread to his gaze. "Like I said, guardian. You pull him to you. If you call, he goes running... and only half of the reason is duty. Does Ink know that? No, because he's fucking dense, but there's never been a time he hasn't chased after you when your ringtone sounded. Needing to save a world? Understandable, even if I still think it's disgusting. Bolting out of bed at three in the morning because you asked if he had milk you could borrow? Not dire, but still he went."

_Ink, you idiot..._  
"You call during _sex?" Oh, no... Please, please don't say-_ "And the fucker nearly didn't earn that name by reaching for that damn phone."

_Ink, you **idiot**..._ But Dream was the one who called. Not just once, either. _How... how did that feel? Being interrupted during such an intimate moment...?_ Stars, how much of a bad guy did he make himself look like, calling during something like that?

"I'm not uncomfortable because you're here, guardian. I'm uncomfortable because you keep calling my husband away when we... when _I_ need him most. If this was-! A month ago. Maybe two. If this was just a few weeks ago, it would be _fine_. Fuck, Geno would have probably organized another brunch to talk scheduling and living arrangments just so you and Ink could fuck or be together or do whatever you both want to do with the feelings between you. Just a few weeks ago, it would have been fine, but now... Now, it's... it just isn't. Because that _**bastard**_ you call a brother is fucking with us. W-with _me_ and I can't get my husband to stay home long enough to keep track of where and who he is. I...I need him here, Dream. I..."

_Something's wrong_. Error is trembling. It's faint, but Dream is close enough to see. "Error-"

"I can't worry about it not being him every time he comes back after being called away. He-! His schedule is erratic. You _know_ he'll find time to pop in if he has to leave for a long time and I- I can't handle it. I can't handle having to grill him over who he is every time he stops by for a few seconds. I... I can't- I...I....c-can't..." Stumbling back a bit, Error brought a hand up to his chest and wheezed, breathing too quickly for it to count. "I c-can't think I'm seeing m-my husband and h-have it be **Nightmare**. I...I can't let him that close. I c-can't be his again, Dream. I...I can't...I can't..."

_Again-? Oh... oh stars_... Dream took a step forward but froze, as the full extent of what Error was implying finally sank in. "How... how long, Error...? Does-?" 

"They don't know and I don't **want** them to k-know..." He flashed a look to him, hissing, _"Back up!"_

Instantly, Dream took a few steps back. "Okay..." He showed his hands. "Okay, Error just.... just breathe slowly for a bit... " he tried for a comforting smile, hoping his uncertainty wasn't too obvious on his face. "I won't move from right here until you're okay for me to move." Dream walked him through some breathing for the next several minutes. 

Once Error had calmed down enough to school his expression again, he glanced away. 

"....It isn't my past to tell, Error. I'm sure you'll find a time to tell them..."

"No," Error rasped, "no, Dream, they... I'm not telling them. Ever."

In the end, it was the other skeleton's decision. That being said... "Error," he began softly, "this is something they should know. Ink, the rest of your family... They obviously care about you. A secret like this..." It would eat at him.

"What am I supposed to tell them?" Error demanded, dropping his face into his palms. "You... You don't understand. Ink was quick to jump into action before he had a SOUL. When he had to take the time to pick and choose how he felt, he would jump into situations he wasn't ready for. That... that hasn't fucking changed. I _know_ him. Fuck, _you_ know him too. What do you think he'll do if I give him a reason to be enraged _naturally_ for the first time ever? _What do you think he'll do if I gave him a **name**?"_

Issues with him aside, Dream doesn't want his brother dead.

_And he doesn't want Ink in pieces for trying to make that happen_.

"Besides," whispering, Error kept his face hidden, "it's...it's my own fucking fault. I made shit decisions. I...I chose a lot of what I ran from. Ink would be getting angry at the wrong person. Ink, Reaper... Hell, even Geno would want to storm that bastard's castle just for doing shit I literally asked for."

"...If you _chose_ those things..." he doesn't move, but he tried to project as much comfort as he can into his voice, because this is isn't just a serious matter. It's something it seemed like Error needed to hear. "...If you _really_ wanted them, then you wouldn't have _needed_ to run from them, Error. I... I don't know to what extent your interactions with my brother went, but... but I know he isn't kind. Not anymore."

There was a choking sound, something that seemed torn between laughter and a sob. The destroyer dug his claws into his head, shuddering and somehow seeming smaller. Dream stays quiet and still, waiting for him to collect himself. 

When he does, he takes a breath that seems to fill him back up. He stood taller, let his shoulders back to their natural tension, pulled his palms from his sockets, unintentionally bringing a few strings with the phalanges. 

For a split second, Dream thinks of summoning his staff to his side. _He's going to attack me-!_ But Error met his gaze and he looks so... so _tired_. "Yeah... " he releases a heavy breath and glances to the door. "We should probably head back..." 

_A little too obvious with wanting to change the subject but_ … 

"Error..." Dream begins hesitantly. Perhaps it isn't his place to say anything, but maybe this would help...? "Um... can I teach you something? A-as a thanks for telling me such a sensitive part of your life...?" 

The former destroyer gave him a wary stare once again, eyes flickering between Dream's golden ones. "Teach me? What do you have to teach me?" 

"It's... it's a trick to shield your emotions from empaths and emotional manipulation. It can also work against telepathy and mental suggestions. I told it to Ink but... well, you might need it more than him... he's still new-" 

"What's the trick?" 

"It'll take some concentration and meditation at first but imagine your thoughts and feelings behind a shield or a wall or maybe in a container that can't be opened except by you." 

Error waited for a second, frowning. "That's it? Why are you telling me this?" 

"To help you, your husbands. And as a defense against my brother. Neither my brother nor myself can use emotions hidden from us like this." 

“It won't stop him from trying to break us." Error glanced away. "But… I'll keep it in mind, Dream..." He slid the deadbolt open and motioned for Dream to go first.

Just as he passed Error, a hand shot out and curled around his wrist. 

Instincts demanded that Dream defend himself, but he doesn't. There's no ill intent in the soft, hesitant hold the trembling fingers have around his carpal bones. "Error...?"

Embarrassed, Error dropped his hand. "If... if you want more, Geno will be more than happy to give you more food. It makes him happy when people like what he eats. We...don't have guests over often, either." _You can stay_ , he doesn't say.

Dream really, really didn't know him well at all, did he? 

He smiled, "Okay."

Once they started walking down the stairs, the conversation slowly stopped and they found the adults staring up at them. Well, except for Spright, who was still playing the color association game with the kids. 

Ink's sockets were wide, wavering and changing symbols twice with every blink as he glanced between Error and Dream. 

"Geno," Error called out. The emotions he let slip with Dream were gone, and he sounded as collected as ever. As if he didn't just have a breakdown in front of the brother of his old boss. "Do we have any more of those burgers?" 

Instantly, the smallest skeleton brightened and nodded. "Yeah! There should be several more patties on the counter! They're just cooling and might need to be reheated in the microwave." 

Dream brightened too and hesitantly asked, "Can I-?" 

"Of course!" Geno started to stand, but Dream shook his head, "I can get it, it's okay!" 

Dream went into the kitchen while Error returned to his seat. Desperately, Ink tried to catch his husband's eye, but a hand lightly squeezing one of his shoulders was enough to let the artist know that things would be okay.

When Dream returned with a plate absolutely stacked with burgers and Geno nearly vibrated out of his seat with poorly contained excitement, Ink smiled; wide and bright with the intense joy he feels. 

_Yeah, things were definitely going to be okay._

"Oh, um, they're really easy to make-" Geno begins, answering whatever question Ink missed Dream asking. At the excited cheer in his voice, Ink's smile drops slightly, recalling the way he was so broken up over the topic of his world.

Things would be okay _after_ Aftertale was taken care of...no pun intended, for once.

The mood over dinner seemed to definitely lighten, though there's still tension in Ink's shoulders. Watching him, Error murmured, "Do you want to tuck PJ to bed?" 

He doesn't immediately reply, and Error repeated himself louder, "Ink. Do you want to tuck PJ into bed?" 

Ink stared at him, stars lit in his sockets. There's still too many emotions mixed in his husband, but Error let a small smirk slip onto his face. _My frikken dumbass_... "Come on PJ," Ink smiled at him, "let's get you cleaned up for bed!" 

PJ groaned, "I'm so full.... I can't move..." 

Error glanced to him. "If I see your dragon flitting about the house after you've gone to sleep, I'm going to eat your desserts in front of you for a week." 

The child's eyes widened and he stared at Error with so much betrayal, that Ink had to hide his laughter. Error barely raised an eyebrow. A silent, _What'll it be, young man?_ He looked down, pouting, "That was only one time, daddy..." 

"You were using it to sneak treats from the top of the fridge. Don't do that anymore, alright?" 

Ink opened his mouth, about to praise PJ for having such control so quickly, but a look from Error silenced him immediately, and a sheepish grin spread across the artist's face. He picked his son up, snuggling him close and carried him upstairs. 

Respite tilted his head at Error as Geno followed Ink with Goth in his arms. "Is That Why My Cookies Were Left Open?" 

"Heh, yeah. Sorry, Res. We'll replace-" 

"It Is Not A Problem! I Was Merely Curious!" 

Dream once again found himself incredibly impressed with PJ. He wasn't sure, but... was Error implying that PJ had controlled the dragon _from his room?_ He lost himself in his own thoughts, though his golden eyes were on the destroyer.

"Huh," Reaper grinned, "and here I thought that you were the one sneaking those, Ru."

Error sputtered, "Why the hell would I steal your brother's cookies?"

Reaper's grin widened. "They were chocolate. And, well, it wouldn't be the first time you went around stealing all the chocolate sweets for yourself. Gen is _still_ planning on buying those mouse traps for his chocolate stash, by the way. Says if you're going to stick your hands where they don't belong then you'll have to suffer the consequences of being caught."

"And you all call _me_ the violent one? What the actual fuck, Reaps? Don't let him buy those!"

"But if I don't buy them, he won't cuddle me." Reaper whined. "Ruru, I need my cuddles. They're like coffee."

"Bitter and disgusting?"

"Essential for life!" The god squawked, offended by his husband's words.

When Error grinned, amused at his reaction, Dream blinked. _He... he looks happy_. And he felt happy, too. 

_How?_ How did Error manage such warmth when he was being torn apart by his own secrets not too long ago?

"Essential for life, huh? Says the god of death?" 

"Better watch it, stitcher. I'll have to cuddle you-" 

"Do it and I'll string you up in the living room." 

Reaper leaned on is elbows on the table, grinning widely at him. "Ooh~! You _promise~?"_

Error fidgeted. "We have a _guest_ , Reaps." 

"Yes, and?" Reaper winked to Dream. When he didn't get a response, he tilted his head slightly at him. "...Dream?" 

Dream startled out of his staring and looked over to Reaper. "Huh? What?" 

Reaper's smirk settled on his face. "Trying to figure out our grumpy pants? Good luck." 

Error startled and turned to look at Dream, who quickly became flustered. "I-I wasn't-! N-no, I j-j-just got lost in thoughts!" 

"Heh... classic excuse," this time when Reaper winked, Dream's face flushed a bright golden yellow hue and he shrunk into his cape slightly.

Respite and Spright peered at each other, smiling. The former glanced to the other three, "It Was Nice To Meet You In An Informal Setting, Guardian." 

"Dontcha worry bout da dishes. Res-brah and I gotchu covered!" Spright stood and gathered the dirty dishes while Dream stuttered a thank you to Respite. 

Geno and Ink came back down the stairs holding hands and chatting about the kids. Geno let go once they hit the dining room. "Oh, that reminds me! I have brownies cooling on the counter! I'll go grab them right now!" 

He disappeared into the kitchen. Reaper glanced between Ink and Error. "Are you two cool now?" 

Error shrugged, eyes flicking between Dream and Ink. "You two were going to talk to us about the meeting?" 

Ink fidgeted, smile falling. "Y...yeah..." 

"Oh boy..." Reaper murmured.


	26. Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Stars want to break their phones.

"I...um," Ink shot a desperate look at Error, "please don't be mad at me, Ru," he begged, "but I-"

"Here they are!" Geno announced, a plate stacked with brownies held in his hands. "Um, are you allergic to nuts, Dream? Some have them and some don't, so I can show you which ones to grab if you are."

"This is the wrong house to be in if you're unable to handle nu-"

Error sent a kick Reaper's way. "Geno, put the damn brownies on the table. Ink was just about to tell us _why I shouldn't be mad._ "

His brother looked at him in surprise and hesitantly set the brownies down. Dream shifted uncomfortably in his seat as Ink shivered at the venom in Error's voice. After frowning at Error, Reaper turned an encouraging smile to Ink, "You can tell us, hon." 

Ink dropped his gaze. "It's going to take four mon-" 

"No." Error shook his head. "No." 

"Ru-" 

Error slammed his fists onto the table and stood from his seat so quickly, the chair clattered to the floor. 

"H-hold on," Dream tried to soothe the destroyer. He glanced to Ink before looking to Error again. "Please, let us explain what happened-" 

"Why?!" Error snapped. "If it's still _four fucking months_ -?!" 

"At least two of those months will be spent drawing up blueprints," Dream argued quickly. "That's something that he can do here." 

"Blueprints?" Reaper and Geno asked while Error's rage simmered down. Just barely.

Dream faltered slightly, a little unsure of just how to go about such a sensitive topic when the one most directly involved was sitting _right there_. Glancing at Ink for help, he hesitantly began, "Ink agreed to create a world to replace one current in danger of vanishing from the multiverse."

"Aftertale." The artist admitted, knowing his husbands would make the connection on their own if he didn't tell them himself. "I... Ru, the world is crumbling. Saving it is... out of the question, but we can save the people that belong to it. If I make a new world for them to inhabit, then they can be happy." He met Geno's unreadable stare. "...Without the human, hon. They could be happy in a new world _and_ safe."

"You..." Error stared at Ink dumbly, torn between anger and surprise. "You're a fucking _idiot_ , Ink. You've never made a world. You... do you even know _how_ to? Are you even capable of that? And it's still fucking months of work! Two months of straight up absence is still sixty days of you being gone. At _least!”_

"I know," he sunk into his chair, laughing a little. "I know I'm an idiot Ru..." his voice dropped to a whisper as tears grew in his sockets, "but the _alternative_...? It just... isn't an option for us, Ru..." Ink met his gaze.

Dream murmured, "He was _very clear_ about that..." 

"So..." Error was still fighting with his emotions. "S-so you're going to do something you've literally _never_ done before? And if you _fail?”_

Ink smiled, but it was so... "Are you saying I can't? Do you not have faith in me, Error?" 

Error glowered, fists shaking against the table where he was still holding himself on his feet. "I'm saying you're the _Protector_ , not a fucking _Creator_. You barely even have a plan!" 

"I've worked with less." 

_"Is that so?!"_ he hissed. "Then tell me-" 

"Error," Ink reached for his fists, unsurprised when his first flinched away. "How many worlds have I seen _and felt_ you destroy?" 

Growling, Error narrowed his eyes. "How many do you _remember_?" 

"Enough." Ink folded his fingers on the table. Though he spoke to all three husbands, his eyes never strayed from Error. "It's simple reverse engineering. But it's going to take time. I don't know if I can use some of the original Aftertale or not, but I don't want it to make the new one crumble too." 

_"....you're going to create an **entire fucking AU** from **scratch**?!"_

Holding his head up high, Ink nodded. Just once. Firm and sure with no hint of the upset brewing within him. Stars, Error's colors jumbled, but the red... "I can do it, Error."

"But can you do what we had to go to a fucking goddess for and _create life?_ Not just trees and other plants and shit. Can _you_ make a fucking SOUL, you stars damned _idiot_?" Error demanded.

Ink's confidence failed him. "W-what? Why would I-"

"Because," Error hissed, "unless there's a new soulless fucker running around out there, you'd need to replace a certain _someone_ in that world. Unless you plan on reducing Geno down to a fucking fragment of a SOUL just to bring Aftertale's Sans back?"

Reaper's sockets narrowed, his arm stretching around the back of Geno's chair to pull his first in close. "Ink," he growled, "please tell me that's not part of your plan."

Ink's sockets widened. "No!" he shouted, rising from his seat and looking between his husbands in horror. "I... I'm not going to mutilate my husband's SOUL!"

"...You... you said my world was crumbling because there wasn't a Sans or a," Geno's voice wavered, "a Papyrus in it. Will... will the new world be okay with just a Paps?"

_The real question is if Endure will be okay with being 'just a Paps' instead of a pair_. Dream thought worriedly. 

His worry was mirrored on Ink's expression. "We'll plan it out so that the stability of the world isn't centered on having a Sans or Papyrus within it."

"And you're sure that'll work?" Error demanded, eyes narrowed. "If you're going to be gone that long, you're _sure_ it's fucking worth it, Ink? That this new world won't just crumble anyways?"

"Do you have a better idea, Error...?" Ink stared at him again. "Because _Geno shouldn't have to relive that again_. None of them should." 

"So suddenly you care what happens _inside_ the AUs?! I've been saying this shit since the beginning!" 

Ink's eyes flashed red before flickering between other colored symbols. "What do you want me to do, Error?! Stay here, knowing people out there need help-?" 

_"WE FUCKING NEED YOUR HELP, INK!"_

"..." Ink straightened his spine, setting his jaw, and Error did the same with a growl. "Ru, this-" He froze. 

"This _what?!_ Go on! Fucking say what's on your mind, Ink! Nothing’s ever fucking stopped you before! _What do you want to say to me, dammit?!"_

But the artist's eye lights were shaking so bad they looked like they were vibrating. They turned a _violent_ shade of red. A shade the destroyer hadn't seen in a **long** time, and his paintbrush was in his hand a moment later. 

Error stepped back, staring at him with wide sockets. "Ink-!" 

In that instant, Dream's phone sounded. He paled, hearing the panic on the other side, and looked to Ink. The artist was already storming to the front door. 

"INK!" Error snapped, grabbing his first's wrist in a tight grasp.

Surprisingly, he stopped. "You have a choice, Error." His voice was deathly calm, and almost entirely void of emotion. It was as if Soulless Ink was back but with a purpose in his idiot goldfish mind. "Let me save Aftertale, or let it be destroyed by the nightmares." Slowly, Ink tilted his head over his shoulder to stare at Error. "What's your answer?" 

As Error hesitated, seeing the violence growing in Ink's sockets, he noticed ink starting to drip from his grin, his nasal cavity, and sockets. _H... how... how much p-pain is he in...?!_

Dream hung up, summoning his own bow and arrows. He hurried to their sides, looking desperately at Error. "W-we don't have a lot of time...!"

"...Let me come with." Error demanded, grip loosening around Ink's wrist but not dropping. "Actually, no. No, there's no _letting_ me. I'm going with."

"Error-" Dream began.

Ink interrupted him with a hiss. "Then let's _go_."

"G-guys-" Geno stuttered, looking at them worriedly.

Like Dream, he was interrupted. Not by words; however, but with the sound of paint splatting against the floor as Ink crudely drew up a portal and dragged Dream and Error through.

Before it closed, both the glitch and god got a glimpse of fire, broken code, and pure _destruction_.

Worst of all, they heard the sound of _Ink's_ laughter among the screams of Geno's people.

Then, the portal was gone.


	27. Aftertale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which shit definitely hit the fan...

"Dream, start getting these monsters to safety. If I find them, I'll portal them your way. Error, go with Dream and defend him." 

"No-" 

A flash of red targets, and Ink's snarl stopped him cold. "This is **not** the time for us to be arguing. Want to be mad at me? Fine! But me mad at me while you're protecting Dream! He'll be able to tell you if it's _me_ when I come back." He flashed his gaze to his oldest friend, who frowned. 

"Shouldn't we grab Blue-?" 

"No. Nightmare's here and I don't need him turning into Blue." 

"Ink-" 

"Error _please."_ Ink was starting to shake. He subconsciously gripped his chest and stared at Error. "We're losing Aftertale right now and he's using _my fucking face_ to do it." 

Dream reached for Error, grabbing his sleeve. "He'll be fine. We just need to get the monsters to safety, then we can join him, okay?"

Okay? _Okay?_ There was _nothing_ about this situation suitable for that fucking word!

But Error simply grit his teeth, turned his back to Ink, and nodded. "Okay."

When he glanced back, Ink was gone.

"I'm not going to lie, Error." Sure that he has his attention back on him, Dream nodded his head to the side before running off in that direction with Error trailing behind. As they ran, piles of dust scattered about catches their eyes and dull the glow of Dream's own. "You're reputation may hurt more than it would help. Luckily, Aftertale... From what I know, most of its interaction of the multiverse happened through Geno. The people _should_ be unaware of who you are, but if they're _not_ you'll have to work around their fear of you to help."

"...Is there even anyone _left_ to help?" Error murmured, tense as he glanced around but finding no one as of yet. The screaming was all around, but he couldn't see anyone. Anyone that wasn't dust on the wind, at least. "Where do we send any of the fuckers who haven't come across- _fuck, DREAM!"_

Whirling around, the guardian let loose an arrow just in time to split the trunk of the tree sent his way in two. Broken, the two halves split apart and continued forward on either side of Dream instead of ramming straight into him. 

"Good reflexes, brother, though I do wonder how that would have gone if Error didn't warn you."

Error and Dream faced the new voice, seeing the one and only Nightmare, perched lazily in another tree. "Brother," Dream greeted tensely, another arrow already notched. 

"Huh, my little destroyer..." Error tensed up, dragging strings from his sockets. Nightmare sneered, "You've strayed far from home, my friend." 

"I am **not-** " 

The tree Nightmare was in lurched to the side with a loud _crAcK!_ , and a barrage of black bones shot at the lord of darkness. He narrowly avoided most of them, getting several nicks in his tendrils when he smashed them away from his face. He grabbed onto another tree, glaring out at the artist. 

Who jumped into a puddle of paint, just to fall onto Nightmare with a swipe. He shrieked as two of his tendrils were cleaved cleanly off, and bone shaved from one of his arms. 

Dream grabbed Error's hand, "We have to hurry."

It was hard to turn away, but, as much as he hated to admit it, Error knew he would only be a distraction.

"Let's go-"

"D-daddy," PJ's voice sobbed from behind them, "Daddy, please help me! It...i-it hurts! _It hurts, Daddy!"_

_N-n-n-no… no, it’s not-_

_"It's not him, Error!"_ Dream tightened his grip on Error's wrist when he stopped cold. 

"I-Ink-" He turned. 

Ink was frozen, staring at PJ. Or, what looked like PJ. Rage brewed in the artist's eyes. Undeniable, overflowing rage that seemed to make the air around him simmer. 

But Error knew his husband. He knew those slightly curled in shoulders, the way his sockets seemed to widen at the bottom even as his jaw clenched. 

_Doubt. Uncertainty. Panic._

_Ink couldn't remember if PJ was really at home, even though he was the one to tuck him into bed-_

Error froze too, the mix of colors in him unintentionally distracting Ink long enough for “PJ” to grab Ink's brush and rip it away.

_No, no, no- **"NO!"**_ Error shouted, darting forward and sending his strings after the brush when Nightmare laughed with their son's voice.

"Look, Papa!" An unholy glee filled the imposter child's eyes. "I'm just like Mommy! I'm pretending like I can save," he pulled the brush out of the way of Error's strings, "this," he swung it forward, "world!"

Just before the brush could be slammed into a tree, Error caught it with his threads and pulled it from Nightmare's hands. "INK!" he shouted, tossing the brush back to him, "PJ is _fine!_ He's... you put him to bed, okay? _He's fine!"_

"You should be more worried about yourself, _Error_." PJ's voice snarled, sounding from just behind him in a terrifying mix between child and Nightmare.

Ink reappeared between the two, slashing across his fake child's face. The rage practically **oozed** out of him at this point. 

And Nightmare was more than happy to take it from him. Almost as soon as the cut was made, it was healed. "Why would mommy hurt me?" he spoke with that horrific mixed voice. 

Though he wasn't well-versed in controlling his own emotions, Ink tried to slam Nightmare out of his. He felt everything within himself, and shoved it into a bottle and capped it. And at Nightmare's flinch, he knew he was somewhat successful. 

But there was still this entire world of suffering and broken code. There was still Error's chunky soup of emotions. There was still the endless other sources of negativity for Nightmare to draw from. 

And Dream couldn't do anything about it. He shot some more arrows, that pierced through Nightmare. The resulting holes sealed instantaneously.

"Oh, that's an emotion I haven't felt from you in a while, brother. _Helplessness_. I like it. You know," dodging another vicious slash from Ink, the fake child grinned, "it's one of my favorite flavors. I savor it, though yours can't quite compare to my _favorite_ source."

Dread settled in Dream's stomach like a rock. "Brother, stop-"

"Ink." Nightmare sobbed, bones stretching unnaturally as he transitioned from PJ's form to someone taller. "Ink," he cried again, voice deeper yet being broken apart by skips and glitches, "please, please save me." Error begged, tears dripping from his sockets. "Please, Ink, _save me_. I... I don't want to be here anymore! Please, Inky! Take me away from here! _Take me away!"_ He grinned. "Pathetic, right?"

He anticipated the artist's attack. _Honestly, what fucking moron was so-?_

Ink jumped, slashing down-

Just as strings wrapped around the lord of darkness several times, immobilizing him. 

The paintbrush made contact with the top of Nightmare's head and cleaved down. 

And he **laughed**. 

"YoU thInK tHiS wilL sToP Me?!" His split grin made his- _Error's_ face split more, though dark goop was already reaching across the halves to bring him back together. 

**"You've already lost."**

What-

**P a i n**

_“You feel that?”_

All at once, the fragile pillars holding the world together broke into pieces, the sound of screaming abruptly dying off but going unnoticed by Ink as he dropped to his knees and replaced them with his own.

_“All those cuts?”_

Dozens of deaths, all at once.

_“All those broken bones and burns and bruises?”_

Dozens upon dozens of deaths _felt_ all at once.

_“They’re **nothing** compared to the pain you’re about to feel.”_

And they were all Ink's fault.

He couldn't save them. _He couldn't save them!_

"INK!" Error shouted, voice melding with Dream's who called out to Ink alongside him. 

He didn't hear them.

_Couldn't_ , really.

_“You could have saved yourself from this, Protector.”_

And as Nightmare laughed and quipped, "What a shame that I'll have to tell my newest nightmare what you did," he didn't hear that, either.

_“But I suppose it doesn’t matter.”_

Screaming and sobbing and drowning in purple, Ink heard absolutely nothing as his symbols rolled into the back of his head. Just as abruptly as the screams of Aftertale's residents died off, his did too.

_“We will still **c a r v e** the answers from you.”_

And with color dripping from his sockets and cracking his skull with pressure, Ink fell forward; unconscious.


	28. An Idiot's Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a *cringe* promise is made!

Ink jerked awake, frantically searching for his brush- 

_“Heh, you won’t need your little toy with us, friend-”_

A soft blue soothed over his panic, and a healing gold entered his view. "D-Dr- where's-?" 

"Breathe, Inkblot..." Dream murmured. His hands were on the Protector's shoulders, gently coaxing him to stay still. "Just breathe. There's some water-" 

A choked off sob interrupted him, and Dream found Ink burying his face in the guardian's chest. Gingerly, Dream wrapped his arms around him, letting his soothing, healing colors drift to the artist as he continued to sob. 

The door opened, and an exhausted red and pink entered the room. Ink looked up and sobbed harder. "R-Ru...!" 

Error's shoulders dropped as he looked to Ink. "Inky..." 

Dream gently let Ink go, and Error filled the space, holding him close. Ink dug his fingers into Error's shoulders, clattering. "I-I couldn't s-save them...!" 

_“You cannot save something you cannot care about-”_

"Shh... d-don't beat yourself up, Ink..." He rested his head on Ink's and looked to Dream. 

"He just woke up... I'll uh... I'll give you some space..."

Nodding in thanks, Error gently rocked Ink side to side as he watched Dream go. "Guardian," he murmured quietly, trying not to disturb his husband, "there's a guest room down the hall to the right. You can stay there, if you want."

Nodding, Dream left the room, the door quietly clicking shut behind him.

_“R-ru"_ Ink sobbed, "Ruru, I... _Ru!"_

Closing his eyes to stave off tears, Error clutched Ink tighter and continued rocking him, murmuring soothingly to him as he did so. "You... you did all you could, Inky. What happened... it wasn't your fault."

_“But it **IS** all your fault, and it will **continue** to be-”_

"I-I'm the p-p-protector!" Ink argued. "I w-was supposed t-to keep t-t-them safe! _I f-failed!"_

_“You have **failed** so many times. Give us the answers-”_

"Shhh, Inky. You-!" _Did_ fail, but Error couldn't say that. Couldn't throw it in Ink's face when his husband was already so torn up over it. "Inky..."

His voice broke, " _I cut you in h-half_.... P-PJ-"

_“All those broken bones and burns and bruises-”_

"That _wasn't_ our son. And that _wasn't_ me." He softened his voice, "You could tell. You fought through it." 

"B-but the memories-" he was starting to hyperventilate. The flashes of PJ's and Error's split faces, the taunting, the horribly distorted voices, the glee in his tormentor’s- _Oh stars i-it’s blending together…!_ Shutting his eyes, he took a deep breath, focusing on Error's scent. On the soft pink he seemed to surround Ink in. On his strong yet somewhat shaky arms and the solidness of the body holding him. "I-It... it **hurt**...." he whimpered. "E-Everyone.... Ru, _nobody made it out_...! A-and... _I can s-still feel it...!_ Th-the echoes-!"

Stroking the back of Ink's skull and rubbing his back, Error hesitated; unsure of what to say to help. "...You know how this place works, Inky.” 

_“You know how this is going to go.”_

“Eventually, the multiverse will fix itself.” 

_“Eventually, you’ll tell us-”_

“Aftertale may be gone _now_ , but it'll be back, one day."

_“Nobody’s going to miss you when you’re gone. And you won’t ever be back, one day.”_

Ink sobbed harder. "T-that can take _years_ , Ru! Five, ten, a thousand...! _I...it's not that simple!_ You _know_ it isn't!" _Shut up shut up shut up…!!!_

"Shhh," Error hushed, trying to sound soothing, "shhh, Inky. Shhh. If... if you think you would have been able to create a world from nothing, who's to say that _you_ can't bring the world back sooner?"

_“Why don’t you build us our own sanctuary? You’re an **artist** aren’t you…? Make something for us.”_

"The c-creators-!"

"Already gave you the pieces.” 

_“You’ve seen the whole multiverse. Just take pieces from it and make something new.”_

“They... I know how worlds break, Inky. Even I can't dwindle them down into complete nothingness. There has to be specks of code _somewhere_ for you to use."

Quickly, he shook his head, "N-no... _no_... I'm n-not using Gen- Does he...?" 

"Yeah... Reaps does too. Well, Reaps didn't really have a choice _but_ to know... The guardian was blaming himself, too." 

The whimper was so soft, Error almost didn't hear it, "E-Endure..." with that uttered name, the memories and voices faded back to uncomfortable impressions and echoes of pain and torment. 

"Endure what, hon?" 

"N-no... no.... no, no, no....!" Impossibly, Ink's grip tightened on Error and he broke down crying again, whimpering denials through each heaving breath. He kept going even when he lost his voice. Even when it was ink flowing from his sockets instead of tears. Even as the sobs weakened and his grip loosened. Soon, the only noises from him were a soft rattling sound as he shivered.

Error readjusted his hold on Ink, scooping one arm under his legs. He scooted further up their bed and leaned against their pillows to hold Ink in his lap. Ink still clung to him tightly, arms around his shoulders and face buried in his neck. He was still shivering, so Error brought some blankets up and tucked them around him. 

"You passed out a few days ago, Ink..." Error murmured. "I was freaking out but Dream said that's what happened when... well, he got you back home... I was torn between chasing after Nightmare and fighting Dream..." Error ducked his head, and a dirty guilty color flooded his system. Ink whimpered in response, and Error tried to tone it down. "Um... Dream tried to meet up with End yesterday, but no luck. We're not sure where he went-" 

Hardly a whisper, Ink spoke, "He's one of the new nightmares... He... he's probably stuck there..."

Stiffening, Error quickly stomped his harsh reaction down, barely any of the heat from fire that attempted to raze his emotions to the ground entering his voice. "Why-" he stopped there, unsure of what exactly he really planned to ask. 

Too tired to react to what Error couldn't manage to hide from him, Ink shut his eyes. Asleep for days but still so tired... Unfortunately, he knew that this sluggish pain would last for at least a few more. The impact of losing a world always cut him down pretty badly, but there was no doubt that his SOUL made it worst. Feeling everything he had...

Ink trembled and pressed himself closer to Error. "What... what am I going to tell Geno? He- his brother is with _Nightmare_." At the slight flare of green, Ink apologetically corrected, "His _other_ brother."

He rested his head on his firsts', murmuring, "Yeah..." 

"Dream said he was _angry_." Ink looked up at him. "W-when I saw him... he was angry... but... but when we left, he was excited... hopeful..." shakily touching his face, "h-his hope...?" 

_He could only imagine that hope being **gone**_.... Error rubbed his first's arm. "Ink, don't beat yourself up okay...? J-just don't..." 

He nodded slightly, looking up at him. "...would.... would you be okay if Dream and I tried to talk our next steps...?"

Ink must have not known the expression he was wearing, because, if he had, then he wouldn't have needed to ask. The tired, sad sockets with magic burned underneath, the ink smeared cheeks, the neutral grin that kept wavering into a frown... it was a pathetic expression. _Sad_ , too. 

There was no way Error could have said no to him in that moment. "Stay in bed, idiot. I'll get him."

The fact that Ink didn't insist he could track down Dream itself was a true testament to just how poorly he felt. With a slight nod, he let Error lean him back against the propped up pillows and did his best to muster up a brave smile when Error double checked that he'd be fine alone. "Of course, Ru." he lied.

Unconvinced, Error frowned and took Ink's phone from the beside table. _Get your ass over here_ , he sent to the golden eyed guardian. If Ink wanted to chat business in private, then he would leave _after_ Dream came.

When he turned back to his first, it looked like Ink was starting to drift off. Error looked to him, walking over to rest his hand on his first's. His sockets fluttered open, and met Error's gaze. His smile was faint, "Will you stay...? Please..." 

"Of course." He glanced at the bed and crawled in by Ink again. He opened his arms and Ink was more than happy to crawl into them. 

A light knock sounded on the door and with Ink's voice, Dream stepped inside. He glanced between them, unsurprised to see Error there. He walked further into the room and pulled a chair closer to the bed. He sat down, resting his head on crossed arms over the back of the chair. "Ink..." 

"Dream, what happened...?"

The guardian shuddered, the quivering against Ink informing him that Error was doing the same. "A lot of things happened, Inkblot." Dream whispered, voice and eyes haunted.

"Aftertale-"

"You know what happened to Aftertale, idiot." Error murmured softly. Gently, he ran a fingertip under Ink's right eye and attempted to brush off some dried ink. "I know you haven't forgotten."

Was it horrible that Ink kind of wished he did? "I need _all_ the details, Ru."

Dream shook his head. "Ink, you- Like Error said, you know the end result. That...that's all that matters where Aftertale is concerned. At least for now. Discussing your condition is a priority."

"My condition?" Ink frowned. He was fine. Hurt and tired and sad, but fine.

Error and Dream met each other's eyes, a knowing look shared between the two. "Inky," Error began, "you- you were breaking _with_ the world."

"Not just emotionally," Dream inputted, "or even just emotionally _and_ mentally. Inkblot, you- we had to get you out as quickly as we possibly could because you were looking bad, but it...it got worse."

"W-wha-"

"Whatever you felt," voice wavering, Dream sank down to sit on the edge of the bed, "Ink, what you felt was too much to handle. I...I don't know how, but you took every sensation you were feeling and- and I don't even know _what_. Turned it against yourself? Let it flow through you? Whatever you did Ink, knowingly or not, would have killed you. What's worse is that it wasn't even instant. There was- nothing, Ink. There were no warnings. I got you back and then you just... you just started crumbling. Maybe it began when the last of Aftertale faded, but I can't say for sure. You started- and we had to-" Taking a deep, stuttering breath, Dream whispered, "If Reaper didn't run off and bring Life over... "

When Dream's voice abruptly died off, Error took over. "Inky, it was bad enough that the guardian with over _several hundred years of healing experience_ couldn't keep you together on his own. You..." ill, he brought a hand to his mouth. "Your dust was on our hands, Ink. Mine, Dream's, Reaper'..Life's, too. It took her and Dream two days _combined_ to get you to a state where you wouldn't just fall apart. We," he shut his eyes, "we couldn't even move you upstairs. Spright has been distracting the kids, at least. They've pretty much been locked in their playroom with him. They think they're having an indoors camping trip."

He wanted to laugh. _Ink? Dusting? No way. Impossible_. Something flickered in the back of his mind. Some memory that danced just too far away for him to access it, so he didn’t. Instead, his gaze flicked between the two. Even though he was worn out, he couldn't sense any light colors in their auras. 

_Oh... they were serious..._

"Night-" 

"Got away." Error growled. The expression Dream wore was... complicated. Frustration that his brother got away? That nostalgic helplessness? ...fear...? The guardian sighed and nodded confirmation. 

Ink glanced between the two. "What else...? What...? D-does Geno-?" 

"Inky," gentle but firm, Error interrupted him. "All of us are worried about **you** right now, not a destroyed world." 

He flinched, but met Dream's gaze. "End...? We... we _promised_ -" 

"No, honey, we didn't. We didn't promise anything. But we _did_ make a plan with him. A rushed plan with many holes that almost got you _killed." Why did that make the artist want to laugh…?_ Dream paused, narrowing his lights at Ink. "You'd better not be planning on trying to-" when Ink averted his eyes, anger flared in Dream's sockets, startling the destroyer. "Ink! You woke up, how long ago?! After _days_ of being _nearly dead_ and now you're gonna try to, what?! Build a fucking world?!" 

"I let him down, Dream...!" 

"NO!" Dream's fingers dug into the blankets to just barely stop himself from shaking Ink's idiot shoulders. "No," he tried to calm down. "You didn't let him down. You tried to protect that world. We weren't anticipating anyone trying to _destroy_ it."

Exhaustion settled deep into Error's bones when he saw Ink's jaw clench. No matter they did, no matter what they said, Ink wouldn't let go of the burden he was putting on his own shoulders. "Make a promise, Ink."

The protector startled. "Ru-"

Turning his head to meet Ink's eyes, Error frowned. It was hard to look imposing when you were acting as a pillow for your stupidly stubborn, annoyingly tall husband, but he managed the best he could. "To me, to Dream. To our husbands. Make a promise to every family member in this house right here, right now with Dream and I to witness."

Ink hesitated, the discomfort of a promise that each and everyone one of them felt slowing his nod. "O...okay." Error didn't ask for something like this often. Or ever. "What is it, Ru?"

"Don't do anything stupid before you're healed." Error demanded. "You and Dream can plan all you want, but don't- no rushing off. If it requires you to stand, then no. Not until you're- not for a week." he decided, knowing 'better' wouldn't keep Ink in bed for more than a few hours. "You may think you're fine, but you're an idiot. You- you don't know anything. So," when his voice cracked, Error shut his eyes; embarrassed, "please, Inky. Promise me you won't go world jumping or hunting after 'End' for at least a week. Just...just one."

His gaze flicked between his husband and long time best friend. The latter had his jaw clenched with stubbornness as he practically glared at the artist, while the former waited with barely restrained patience. 

He lowered his gaze from theirs. "One week...?" With the slight movement of a nod behind him, Ink shut his eyes and leaned back. "Okay." 

"Okay what?" Error demanded. "We want to hear your words, Inky." 

"Heh, is this some introduction to a threesome I wasn't aware of?" Before either could respond, he sighed, "Yeah. I promise I'll stay here for a week..." 

Error slumped forward, readjusting his arms to encircle Ink's waist, so he could rest his head on his husband's shoulder and sigh. 

Dream, on the other hand, was trying _hard_ to pretend he didn't hear Ink talk about a threesome. Not for the first time, he was glad his friend was still too new at empathy to recognize when his shell cracked slightly.

"It's pretty late into the evening, but there's food in the fridge if you want any." Error said. "If you're not up for eating, then try getting some more rest, Inky."

Food or sleep? Ink didn't really feel in the mood for either. "Is... Geno," a burst of guilt, "is he still awake? And Reaps? You... you said they were worried?"

The thought of seeing his smallest husband terrified him, but if Ink really almost _did_ die before them...

"Want me to get them?" Dream offered, voice soft as he put the threesome out of his head for now.

His voice unintentionally shrank with his uncertainty, "I don't know... a-are they awake..?"

Error hummed softly, the vibrations against Ink's back soothing. "Hon, none of us have been really sleeping well... it would likely put their minds to ease to see you, if you're up for it." 

He nodded, intertwining his fingers with Error's. Dream glanced to the destroyer, both of them nodding, then the guardian left. 

Ink sunk into his thoughts as he twirled Error's wedding ring from him on his husband's hand. _"...you took every sensation you were feeling and- and I don't even know **what.** Turned it against yourself?" No... no that wasn't quite right... he..._

_He was trying to stop it. He was trying to **save** it somehow... and it almost killed him._

"Ru. C-can I wear your jacket...?" 

Error tilted his head and looked at him. "My jacket won't fit you any-" 

"I don't care." 

Eyes searched his, but the destroyer drew some strings from his sockets and slid the closet door open, drawing one of his jackets off the hanger and bringing it back to Ink. The artist slipped his arms backwards through the sleeves and leaned his head back on Error's shoulder, closing his sockets slightly. His shivering slowed more and warmth finally started gathering back into his bones. 

Just in time for Dream's light knock to sound.

Without either of them giving the go ahead, the knob turned and Reaper poked his head in, usual smile a mere shadow of the playful expression Ink was so used to seeing the god wear. "Ru? Inky?"

Appearing quite a bit below his head was Dream, his own expression one of sheepishness. "Sorry" he mouthed, feeling a little rude at entering without permission. Then again, at least Reaper let him knock instead of teleporting straight into the room like he originally wanted. "I'll, um, be down the hall, Ink. Thanks for letting me use the guest bedroom," he said to Error, "it's a lot more comfortable than the couch."

Error snorted, a bit of real humor in the sound. "Yeah, well, uh," he cringed, "....sorry it took so long to clean. We don't, uh, have guests often." _Not ones that didn't end up staying forever, like Spright_.

"Are you okay?" Reaper questioned Ink, tuning out the oddly polite conversation between Error and Dream. "With touching, I mean. Gen and I don't want to hurt you, hon."

Softening, Ink snuggled closer into Error to show he was fine. Just to drive the point home, he nodded and said, "Yeah, Reapsy. I'm fine."

Dream squeaked and vanished just as the door was flung open, a blur of red and white launching itself at Ink.

For a second, all Ink could process was the colors _ANGER! FEAR!_ and an irrational sense of emptiness and he tensed and shut his eyes against it-

Arms encircled him and Error, and a sob came from a face buried in his shoulder. Ink opened his sockets, looking quickly down and seeing Geno simply _overflowing_ with relief, as was obvious from his tears. He babbled Ink's name over and over with varying degrees of shock and fear and relief and scolding. 

Reaper floated to them, squeezing himself next to Error so the two of them could hold Ink and Geno close. He cooed soothing notes to Geno and Ink, who started to cry his ink-blood tears again.

"Y-y-you're a fucking i-idiot!" Geno wailed, clinging tighter and taking a page from his brother's book as he fitted insults behind every sound of relief and worry. "D-dumbass, airhead, s-stupid," he listed, "you're supposed t-to take care of yourself!"

"I..." Ink gasped, jacket covered arms coming around to clutch Geno, "I'm s-sorry, Ge!" _For a lot of things._

Aftertale's destruction, the fact that Ink couldn't help but mourn the world that drove the glitch close to insanity, for losing what fragile trust Endure placed in him, _for losing Endure to Nightmare_... 

"I'm sorry," he choked out again, "I'm so, so sorry."

For making his husbands worry.

For not knowing what was right and wrong anymore. 

For not being healed enough to fix his mistakes. 

_For not being **strong** enough to do his fucking job...!_

But most of all, for almost leaving the best people that ever happened to him behind. 

As Ink cried and apologized and begged for forgiveness, his headache grew and his voice cut out until nothing sounded. He didn't have the strength to move, so he trembled in the embrace of his three husbands with eyes shut. 

When his arms slackened slightly, Geno was fast to pull away. But the artist was just asleep. He looked to the other two, and Reaper murmured, "Can we stay with you two, Ru?" 

The destroyer nodded, his own eyes shutting with exhaustion and relief, though he couldn't quite relax. Nightmare's taunting words as he left still echoed in his mind, but... well, Ink didn't need to know that. At least, not yet.


	29. The Third Day's Lunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things seemed to have calmed for a bit!

The first day was probably the most frustrating. 

Reaper and Geno seemed to have decided to do the buddy system that Error had suggested so long ago. When Geno woke to make breakfasts, Reaper was there. They tried not to disturb the other two, but Error was a light sleeper after everything that happened, and Ink was still in pain. Thankfully, it only took a few minutes for the artist to drift off again, curled in his first's embrace. 

Ink woke next with his breathing harshened and a wild panic in his eyes. The destroyer didn't let him go, even as he tried and failed to summon his brush. Sensing this, Dream burst in and had to interfere before his panic and still-healing magic did something bad.

The second day went a little smoother. Ink was able to stomach food, and had enough strength to walk to the bathroom, though he sat in the tub and let Error help him shower. He didn't want to move from it and he barely spoke, but at least he was clean, and the dried tears and ink-blood on his face and clothes that Error tried to wipe off with a hand towel were finally gone. 

The third day, Error texted Spright, saying Ink should be okay enough for his kids to visit. Ink looked healthier and more alive than he had since he got there, and Ink was practically chomping at the bit to see his kids again. 

_He almost didn't get to see them again..._

It took longer than expected for Spright and the children to arrive. When they finally did, the reason for their delayed arrival became very apparent, very, very quickly once the bedroom slammed open and a _swarm_ of multicolored creatures flew in.

"O-oh...!" Ink gasped, hands darting up to cover his mouth. 

"Mommy!" PJ shrieked, his excited voice nearly drowning out the cheery cry of "Dunkle!" from Goth. The small artist was wavering slightly, but after a few firm shakes of the head seemed to fight through the exhaustion trying to pull at his eyes. Bouncing in place by the door, he lifted a small hand and pointed at his parent's, something wild and very Error in his eyes.

His father's sockets widened, realization melding with panic. "PJ, do-"

"ATTACK!" PJ squealed.

All at the once, the dozen or so flying creatures froze. Then, simultaneously, they flung themselves at Ink; latching onto wherever the individual creatures landed and crooning at the artist happily.

Ink did his best to not fall over as the weight of each new creature made his legs shake. Error shot a glare to his brother who shrugged. His glasses switched to _"SRY-BRO"_ , but his grin was wide as ever. "Da lil artist was super happy, brah. I'm not about ta crash his vibe!" 

Two more weights crashed into Ink's legs, and when he craned his head to look, he saw Goth and PJ hugging each leg tightly. He reached out, grabbing Error's shoulder in a desperate attempt to keep himself up. He grinned at them, "Hey kids. PJ how long have you been doing this, honey?" 

"Since we started the indoor camping!" 

Error groaned. "Paper, you're not supposed to be straining your magic like that! I told you! I taught you how to sense when you're using too much!" 

PJ pouted and stared up at Ink, "But mommy is happy..."

Error faltered. Ultimately, he sighed and took a knee after ensuring that Ink would remain safe. As pure as PJ's intentions were, he didn't want to encourage any of the negative qualities linked to the child's intent to see his mother pleased. Ink was enough of a sacrificial idiot. Error didn't want their son catching his bad habits and potentially harming himself in a desire to do good.

"Look, baby abomination." he started, reaching out and playfully prodding PJ on the cheek with a finger. The sight of soft, pliable bone squishing made him crack a grin. "Seeing you and your brother is more than enough to make mom happy, okay? You don't need to push yourself so hard when a smile and _one_ little paint creature is all it takes to make mama smile. You're feeling sleepy, right?"

Puffing his cheeks out in a pout, PJ reluctantly nodded. "Yeah..."

"How are you going to enjoy mama's smile if overworking yourself makes you sleepy?" Error asked, brow raised. When his son huffed and whined, he sighed, "You're doing really good with your magic, brat." he praised, "Just... tone it down, okay? Leave yourself enough energy to spend time with your mother. And you," grin twitching upwards at Goth's squeak, Error narrowed his eyes slightly, "don't encourage your brother. One of you needs to be the smart one and there's too much of Ink in PJ for it to be him."

"Ru!" Ink protested, "That's mean!" But his eyes were soft and watery as he scolded his first. _He cares about them so much..._

PJ wavered on his feet again and some of the creatures started to lose their form. Without a thought to his own health, Ink took over some of them, smiling at his family. He looked up to Spright, who brought the pages the creatures had been drawn on. After some more insistence on PJ's part that he could put them all back himself, and Error's gentle scolding to not be an idiot, PJ and Ink worked together to bring all the creatures back onto the pages. 

Goth stared with wide, excited sockets before clinging to Ink. “Up! Up!”

"Oh... Gothy I'm not-" 

The small child didn't care and decided to start crawling up Ink's leg. PJ clung to Error's leg, a little dizzy.

Like plucking fruit from a stupid, wavering tree, Error reached over and caught Goth before he got much higher than Ink's waist. A single firm look shut down the child's complaining before his whining could turn into a fit. "Not now, baby brat. Let Inky sit down before crawling all over him, okay?"

"Kay..." Goth whined.

Not one to be left out, PJ raised his arms. "Me too, daddy." he demanded, forced to speak around a jaw cracking yawn.

"Think you're strong enough to make it downstairs, Inky?" Error questioned, Goth settled on one hip while he reached down and pulled PJ up to sit on the other. "Spright can help you, if you can't. Or, if you want, Reaps and Glitch Face can bring us some lunch up here?"

"Upstairs picnic!" Goth cheered, pleased with his assumption that they'd be having another 'camping' picnic.

Ink smiled at him gratefully. "I can take a couple stairs." Error stared at him, narrowing his sockets but seeing no reason to argue. He glanced to Spright, and the colorful skeleton gave him a thumbs up. "Hold on," Ink murmured as Error turned away. "Didn't you yell at me for holding the both of them that one time?" 

Error glanced over his shoulder, copying Ink's placid expression when he supposedly forgot something, "Did I? Huh." 

Ink scowled at him, though didn't stop his smirk from rising in one corner of his mouth. Error smirked back and left the room. 

"Ya sure you'll be okay, Inky-brah?" Spright approached him hesitantly. 

The artist nodded, sharing down at his legs. "Yeah... Ru worries too much, I think..." 

"He's gotta right to! Ya almost dusted on him. I'd prolly be forcin ya ta stay'n this room, but," he shrugged. "Eh, lunch's gonna get cold soon."

Slowly stepping away from the bed, Ink took a few slow, experimental steps before deciding that, yeah, he definitely had this. A little shakiness remained in his legs, but eh. He could deal.

"How-" stumbling slightly, he waved off Spright's offered arm and continued making his way to the door. "How have the, uh, meals been?"

"Tasty as ever, but dat ain't what ya wanna ask, is it?" When he stumbled again, Spright ignore his insistence that he was fine and stepped closer. Instead of taking his hand, linking their arms, or picking him up like Ink expected, he tipped his head forward so that his glasses would slide off just enough to reveal a wink before turning his back on the artist and crouching. "Hop on, broski-in-law."

"Spright, I'm fin-"

"Skateboardin' down da stairs with ya on mah back will make Reaps-bro flip."

Ink's grin twitched. That... that was admittedly horrible, but _tempting_. Reaper's obsession with stair safety was justified and all, but the panicked noises he made when someone wasn't being safe...

 _They're so cute!_ "Okay." he agreed, climbing up and chuckling when Spright stood to his full height. Hey, he was even taller now! Not by much, but Spright had a bit of height on him and being boosted up lent him some of it for the moment.

"Hold on, bro." Spright instructed, magic flaring as a skateboard appeared beneath his feet. "Also, yah can ask your question. Da real one ya wanted ta know."

At the first bit of movement, Ink tightened his hold around the younger skeleton. "Has... has Geno been doing okay? With the knives, I mean."

Fresh hummed, going slow on the board to keep their conversation private. "Nah," he sighed, "bro still... we tried with a small one, ya know? Da dull kind meant for butter? Bro couldn't stand da sight of it. Not even toy ones. Actually, G reacted worst ta dat one, if ya can believe it. Res suggested we give it more time before tryin' again. Said dat most stores already sell meats n'stuff all cut up for ya and dat G could ask fo' help if anythin else needed cuttin'." 

Ink's SOUL gave a soft pang. Foolishly, he had been hoping that fear was something temporary. "And, um, how... how has he been with, uh, with everything else?"

"Dunno." Spright said, tone unhappy. "Been tryin' ta keep the kiddos happy, so I'm in da dark about dat stuff. E-bro is supposed ta update me soon. Oh, uh, hold on," they were nearing the stairs, "gonna try ta make dis as smooth as I can."

Part of Ink stared at the combination of skateboard and stairs and wanted Spright to just _go for it!!!_

The other part was certain Error or Reaps would kill him for wanting that. 

He fidgeted nervously, but grinned. "I trust ya, Spright."

Nodding with a wide grin that Ink couldn't see, Spright bypassed the stairs entirely and made his way down to the end of the hall. Then, when only wall remained in front of them, he twisted around, slammed his foot against the wall to get them rolling, and gave a loud, excited _"WHOOP!"_ as they began flying down the stairs....

...straight into Reaper's path, who was halfway up.

With a loud screech, the god threw himself over the railing _just_ in time to avoid being run down in a nasty collision. His reaction time was fast, but far from smooth and his avoidance of one crash ended up with him sending a picture frame clattering to the floor alongside a vase and- oh. That was the shelf with Geno's _favorite_ books. He was... 

Gonna blame that _entirely_ on Spright and Ink.

After he finished his own scolding, that is. "WHY?!" he screeched, "WHY WOULD YOU _SKATEBOARD_ DOWN THE _STAIRS_?! WITHOUT _HELMETS_ , TOO!"

With nothing obstructing their momentum, Spright and Ink continued rolling forward after they survived the stairs. With some directing from Spright, they were moving around the living room fluidly and already making their way into the kitchen by the time Reaper began shouting. 

Both pretended not to hear him, though Ink was giggling at the adorable, distressed chirps making their way into the god's words.

Error looked up, distress and humor in his sockets. "Spright..." 

His brother grinned mischievously, "Ya bro?" 

"Yer going to have to apologize to Reaper somehow-" 

"Oh dats simple! Coffee date." He rolled on the skateboard around Error. 

Geno glanced to them, smiling tensely, "What was that noise?"

In flurry of flowing robes and feathers, Reaper drifted into the kitchen. Heh, must have startled him enough that his magic went a little wild and set his wings free. "DON'T PRETEND THAT YOU CAN'T HEAR ME!"

Ink ignored him with an innocent smile. "Nothing, hon," he said to Geno, "absolutely nothing."

Geno glanced between him and Reaper with a raised brow. Sighing, he shook he head and made his way over to the god. With a small but amused smile, he reached up and gently cupped Reaper's cheek, the soft touch bringing the frazzled, winged skeleton's attention away from Ink and Spright and onto himself. 

"There, there," he cooed, "no need to get all worked up about _nothing_."

"Gen!" Reaper whined, betrayed. 

Chuckling, the glitch slid his hand down and hooked a finger around Reaper's blaster pendant to tug him into a soft kiss. Seated at the table in the dining room, the children, who were peering into the room from all the noise, chorused a loud "Ewwww!"

"Ew." Error said flatly, joining in. "Take your seat, bird brain. You too, Idiot One and Two." he demanded, nodding first at the happily smooched up god then the skateboarding skeletons. "Don't let the golden guardian catch you being piggy backed on that, Ink. Even _he'll_ be pissed if he sees you risking the destruction of all his hard work if you fall off that damn thing."

Ink turned bright lights to Error and matched Spright's mischievous grin, "I dunno, seeing him angry is like seeing a kitten that can't reach the counter." Ink's grin grew when Error's colors shifted to interest, but he turned his gaze to Spright. 

Sighing, he let the skateboard vanish and gently set Ink back down on his feet. Ink had to keep hold of his shoulders for a couple seconds until he was reoriented, but eventually let go. "So... Dream's still here? You didn't kick him out?" 

Error huffed, "He updated Blue on basically everything. He'll probably tell you the rest _after lunch_. You'd better not turn family lunch into a work place, dammit."

Finally pulling away from Reaper, Geno lightly swatted a hand away from his backside and turned a stern frown to Ink. "I'm with Error on that, hon. If Reaps and Res don't get to talk business at the table, then you and Dream don't, either." He said, arms crossed and sockets narrowed. "I don't care if the topics of your jobs are nicer, okay? No work at the table when there's family around and food to eat."

Ink hid a burst of blue behind his smile. The topics of his work lined up depressingly well with what Reaper and Respite worked with. Losing Aftertale...

"Okay," he murmured, "you two win." _I... I don't want to talk about all those deaths in front of Geno_.

"Good." Error grumbled, gaze sharpening when his eyes met Ink. Already turned away to plate everyone's lunch, Geno missed the understanding look shared between them that was also shot Reaper's way. _Definitely no work talk with Geno in the room_.

"C'mon, beautiful." Reaper purred, arm hooking through Ink's. "Let me walk you to your seat. Ru can help bring in the food and drinks."

Blushing, Ink walked with Reaper. He subtly tightened his grip on the other's arm when one of his legs weakened temporarily. Otherwise, he looked like he was fine. 

Reaper glanced curiously at him, and frowned. "Ink, are you-?" 

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay, hon..." 

Reaper paused in the doorway, murmuring, "Don't lie." 

Ink fidgeted, and glanced away, "Work stuff, Reaps. Physically?" the artist shrugged and turned a smile to him. "I'll be fine."

Reaper's eyes darkened, but he said nothing to push the topic somewhere Ink clearly didn't want it to go. Instead, he placed a filthy smirk on his face and murmured, "Guess I'm just used to seeing you stumble around for sexier reasons" before continuing onward with his blushing piece of eye candy. 

"Naughty, naughty." Ink whispered, appreciative for the distracting comment even if he could see the lack of excitement looming around the words. Despite his expression and words, there was no heat in the comment. Just a mix of worry, amusement, and that beautiful color of Reaper's love. "PJ, honey," he said louder, "why are you and Gothy sharing a chair?"

Wide eyed, the children looked up, their expressions screaming, _'Who? Us?'_

Reaper chuckled and drifted around to rub their skulls affectionately. "Error's been working on something. A gift for a friend of yours, I think? I'm not sure, but he said you mentioned it to him in passing. He's been using their playroom as a workroom though, and started showing these two how to work with string a bit whenever they got a little bored with indoor camping. Since then, _this_ keeps on happening."

Reaching down, he lifted what ended up being their linked hands. Wrapped all around their hands and arms was familiar blue thread.

Entering the room with two plates in hand, Error stopped when he saw the children tangled together and groaned. "I left you alone for less than ten minutes, brats. _And_ I took all the string! How did you _still_ manage to get stuck?!"

PJ grinned guiltily up at Error and pieces of the thread turned different colors. Ink gasped and practically hyperventilated with excitement. He looked over to Error, eyes wide and mouthing, _When did he learn to do that?!_

Error glanced at Ink and shook his head slightly, _Later_. He set the plates down and untangled the kids again, muttering something about strings and paints and messes. 

Vibrating with excitement, and maybe a little weakness in his legs, Ink made his way to his spot and sat down, softly sighing to himself. 

Dream appeared at the bottom of the stairs, rubbing his sockets. "I heard something about food...?" he yawned.

Tilting his head, Reaper grinned. "Someone looks like they had a nice nap. Any nice _dreams_ to go with it?"

Dropping his hand from his eyes, Dream shot the god an expression that had Error choking in surprise. "Oh, haha. _Very_ original." he grumbled, sitting heavily on the chair from his first night over and thumping his forehead onto the table. "Asking the skeleton named _Dream_ if he had any nice dreams. Haven't heard that over a thousand times. Really, an excellent, creative mind there."

Stunned, Reaper stared dumbly. "Uh..."

Seconds later, Dream's head shot up. "O-oh, no-! I... I'm sorry!" he shouted, cheeks golden in embarrassment as his hands flailed before him with nervous energy. "I, uh, I just woke up and- well-!"

The god broke down laughing. "I-!" he wheezed, "I wasn't expecting to get _sassed_ by the guardian of _positivity_. Holy-! That was-!"

Even Error looked a little impressed. "Didn't know you had it in you, guardian."

Ink grinned brightly. "Dreamboat, have some coffee." 

In that moment, Spright, on his newly summoned skateboard, rolled in with a tray of drinks. Waters for everyone and a few coffees, creamer, milk, and sugar. 

Almost instantly, Dream and Reaper grabbed for the same cup of coffee. Dream shot daggers at Reaper with his eyes before flushing brighter and letting go. Reaper hesitated but shyly pushed the cup to him. 

Ink's laughter kept bubbling up until he was gripping his ribs and doubling over.

Coffee not yet devoured, Dream shot Ink an annoyed look before meeting eyes with Error. "How do you live with him without going insane?" he asked, a lot less embarrassed about his pre-coffee ire being turned against Ink than anyone else at the table. 

Blinking, the destroyer raised a brow and took his seat. "You've known him longer."

"But you _live_ with him." Dream stressed.

Ink went to complain, but a loud, drawn out _moan_ had the words shriveling up in his now desert dry mouth.

"I want to marry whoever brought this blend into this house and got it into my mouth." The golden Star murmured, focus on his mug as he brought it back to his teeth for a long, noisy sip. "Stars, I've never had a brand so good. Is Spright single?"

Reaper, sockets wide a face an embarrassed blue, nodded to Error. "Ru's actually the one who picked this blend out."

Sockets still drooping slightly with sleep and filter still gone, Dream asked, "Do you want a fourth husband?" 

It took the entire mug for him to realize what he asked.

Once the rest of the food and Geno were at the table, Dream still refused to look anywhere other than his plate. Ink had fallen out of his chair, laughing so hard he accidentally disconnected one of his arms from his body. It took nearly five minutes of wheezing and pleas for Error to help him for Ink to be seated again, and even then, he couldn't look at Dream or Error without shaking with barely restrained giggles. 

Especially with the conversation Error and Dream had however long ago, the destroyer wasn't entirely sure how serious or not the guardian was, so he tried to hide his startled blush with shoving food into his mouth. 

Though neither empath nor guardian were blind to the uncomfortable lingering hints of arousal from Dream's moan. 

The kids? Oblivious. And Spright was secretly taking pictures of the family and the food. Reaper squinted at the reflection in Spright's glasses. "Are you looking up rings?" 

Spright looked up. "Rings? Now, why would I up'n do dat?" Dream shrunk in on himself more, hiding his face in his scarf. 

Goth looked around brightly. "Dunkle Dweamy?" 

"I.... I'm g-g-gonna..." Dream swiftly picked his breakfast up and shortcut upstairs to the guest room.

Goth's expression fell. Eyes watering, he prodded at his food sadly and whimpered, "Did I say a bad?"

"Oh! No, honey," Geno soothed, "Dream just... he isn't your dunkle, sweetie."

"...But," the child's face scrunched in confusion, "dunkle Dweamy wants ta marry dunkle Error!"

Ink chuckled, expression soft as he looked at the youngest child at the table. "But he's not married _yet_ , sweetheart. Until then, he's just _uncle_ Dream."

Error sputtered, " _Yet_?! Until then?!"

Even Reaper choked on his coffee, but Goth immediately brightened and gave Error his best mom stare, "Marry uncle Dreamy!!" 

Ink, absolutely _incapable_ of helping himself, grinned at Error as innocently as he could, "What _do_ you think of Mr. Mc **Dream** y upstairs, honey~?"

Eyes flashing a crowded red, Error quickly stood from his seat; skull- Ink snorted. Error's face was so flushed with yellow that he looked a little _sun_ kissed. "What do I think?! I think he's a freakin _saint_ for keeping you alive because _clearly_ your idiocy isn't the reason you make it back in one piece!"

Ink's grin stretched. "Oooh, a saint? Does that make you the demon that tempts him through sed-"

With a glitching screech, Error vanished.

Silence settled across the table, and Geno coughed. "S-so... you're feeling better, Inky?" 

Ink, though his grin faded slightly with both of their absences, nodded to Geno. A softness resided in his gaze as he looked at the rest of his family, chowing down at the table. He looked at his own plate, untouched since the beginning, and dug in, closing his eyes to savor Geno's cooking. 

_Oh... always so good_... 

_You almost didn't get a chance to enjoy his food anymore_ , an unhelpful voice murmured in his mind. Ink's chewing slowed as he let the flavors linger longer.

This wasn't a dish he remembered ever having, but there was something familiar about it that left a pleasant taste on his tongue long after every bite. Humming appreciatively, he slid his sockets open and glanced down to gather another spoonful. "Heh, how did you get the rice such a pretty color, Gen? It's almost like you-" Ink paused, staring at the food on his plate. "...almost like you painted it..." he murmured.

Slowly, his eye lights drifted across the table. Spright’s, Res', Error's abandoned plate... everyone's contained the same food, but the coloring was different.

Geno shifted, unsure of his decision as he hesitantly explained, "I...I've been adding paint to your food. N-not the ones that make you feel!" He was quick to add, "But, um, the ones you would add for, uh," his expression scrunched, "flavor?"

Ink... Ink hadn't touched those since before their trip to Life's. Magical in nature but not quite strong enough to influence his emotion, the paints were, well, they were used for a lot of things, really. Most disturbingly to others, he liked using them as snacks. It disgusted a lot of people, but, to Ink, they were delicious; like spices or sugar, depending on the color.

He thought that would change after gaining a SOUL. 

Guessing at his thoughts, Geno mumbled, "Like an idiot, one day I added them to your food, despite you having a SOUL. I was, uh," his eyelight lowered, “...distracted," _By the looming fear of Nightmare_... "so I didn't really realize what I did until I looked up and saw your plate looked a little different. You took a bite before I could take it away though, and you _liked_ it. I figured you still liked the taste, after that. Haven't really been adding them since then, but..."

"But...?" Ink pressed, voice soft.

Blushing a bit, Geno smiled uncertainly. "...I thought that, after everything that happened, maybe you'd like something familiar? It's...kind of stupid, I know. But you used to always be caught snacking on your colors, so I thought...I dunno," his voice lowered, embarrassed, "it'd be a treat?"

Wordlessly, Ink gathered another spoonful of his meal and sampled it, his eyes falling closed again as he sorted through the flavors. Tender seasoned meat that practically fell apart on his tongue, the subtle flavor of rice, the fresh vegetables... 

And throughout it all, a pleasant, stomach-warming _spice_. Red, he decided, smiling as he swallowed. The rusty red that didn't have enough power in it to make him angry, but always managed to dance across his taste buds.

"I-Ink...?" Geno stuttered, shifting nervously. "If it's bad I can-"

"No," he whispered, "it...it isn't bad, hon." _It's perfect_.

It was familiarity inserted into the middle of all the uncertainty of what the future held.

A soft smile graced his features, and he let himself enjoy every last bite before leaning back against his seat with a content sigh. _This... this is what I needed_... He opened his eyes and looked to Geno, who instantly blushed at the heart lights in the artist's eyes. "Thank you Gen... it's perfect." 

"I-I-It wasn't anything..." but the small, happy smile and the burst of yellow in his colors told Ink differently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eyyyyy we made it over 100K words~!


	30. Bath Time!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which more FLUFF????

PJ and Goth looked between the adults before Goth squawked to get Reaper's attention. He reached for the god's face, grinning brightly at the hint of surprise there.

"Daddy," he called, happily patting Reaper's cheeks once his father was in reach, "can I have juice?"

Although he shook his head as a negative, Reaper smiled and playfully nuzzled Goth's little cheek with his own. "You know that juice is a special treat, Gothy. Makes you all hyper, remember? Besides, you haven't finished your milk, hatchling." Cooing at his son's disappointed expression, Reaper softly crooned and pressed a kiss to his head to cheer him up.

To his surprise, Goth crooned back, the tone higher from youth but just as musical as his own birdsong. "Daddy~" he sang, patting his cheeks again and finishing his word for father with a cheerful chirp.

Reaper stared at him, awed. "Can you do that again, Gothy?"

"Again?" Head tilting, Goth blinked and hesitantly chirped. "Like dat?"

"Reaps, did you teach him that?" Geno questioned, brows raised in surprise. "I mean, I know he tried to mimic you in the past, but he's never managed something that, well, that good."

"I- no," shaking his head, Reaper grinned proudly and lifted Goth out of his seat. With a pretty, excited trill, he spun around with Goth in his arms. "Aren't you just an amazing little bird?! Honey, babe," he called out to his husbands, "this is-! It's not- you can't just teach someone to make these sounds! Skeletons or not, it's up to our magic to decide if we have the capability to make certain noises. I thought Goth took after you in the voice department, Gen, but-" he trilled loudly, too excited to keep the sound in, "those are _my_ sounds!"

Goth, caught up in his father's excitement, mimicked his sounds perfectly. Unable to help himself, Reaper began to make a short assortment of noises, seeing if Goth could mimic them. Chirps, trills, coos, squawks, Goth was able to mimic them all. Brightening, Reaper snuggled Goth closer and grinned at his other husbands. Goth, though still excited from the activity, looked up at Reaper, "Daddy? Juice? Juuuuice?" he cooed as a question. 

Reaper melted slightly. Geno grinned at the two, expression soft. "He's got ya wrapped around his lil finger, doesn't he, babe?" 

The god started taking Goth to the fridge, smiling, "No idea what you mean."

When PJ's eyes brightened and he turned to Ink with his star all but sparkling, the empath chuckled and stood from his seat. "Let me guess: You want juice too, baby?"

Nodding excitedly, PJ hopped off his chair and quickly took his mother's hand. "Yes!" he said, eagerly walking with his mother into the kitchen where Reaper was ready with two cups and a carton of juice. "Juice, juice, juice!"

"You're both terrible!" Geno said, absentmindedly pulling Error's unfinished plate over and picking at his leftovers. "Terrible, spoiling parents!"

"Bro," Spright chuckled, "you spoil dem rotten too." Seated at his side from having scooched their chairs closer, Respite nodded in agreement, his eyes pointedly on whatever Geno's brother was showing him on his phone.

Knowing the asshole probably had photographic evidence, Geno huffed and bit back a retort. Instead, he merely sulked a bit and called out to his husbands as he began gathering the other plates. "Reaps, you're in charge of giving Goth his bath! PJ had one earlier, Ink, so he's good for today!"

Reaper poured the kids their glasses of juice and Ink leaned against the counter in a subtle effort to stop his legs from shaking. That the god noticed. 

Thankfully, he didn't say anything. 

Once the kids were done, Ink said, "Alright, let's grab our dishes and bring them to the sink! Wipe down your area and get yourselves ready for a bath or for nap time." 

PJ looked up at Ink again. "I'm not tired!" he yawned. 

Ink rubbed his head, "Sure sure, my little artist. C'mon, I'll take a nap with you after you clean up your area, okay sweetie?"

Blinking sleepily up at his mother, PJ nodded after a few seconds delay and sluggishly made his way to the dining room. With Ink's help, he picked up his dining area to the best of his abilities before being gently shooed away by Geno so he and his mother could take their naps.

"You can go too, sweetie. Mama and your uncles will finish cleaning while Daddy gives you your bath." Geno said as he handed a stack of plates to Respite with a nod of thanks. "His bubble bath is under the sink, hon. Don't let him overfill the tub with them, please."

"No promises," Reaper chuckled. 

Snuggled up in his father's arms, Goth grinned. "All the bubbles, mama! _All_ of them."

Rolling his eye and shaking his head with a fond, exasperated smile, Geno sighed, "Just clean any messes up, okay?"

"Kind of the point of a bath, Gen."

"You-" snorting, the glitch waved them away. "Just go."

Whistling cheerfully, Reaper nodded and drifted out of the dining room, a smile on his face from Goth's attempts at matching his whistles with cheerful trills. "Excited for your bath, lil guy?"

Goth nodded excitedly. "Bubbles!"

"All the bubbles." Reaper whispered with a conspiring wink. "Let's try to keep all the water in the tub this time, okay? Only your dad and uncle Res float. Don't want anyone slipping because the floor is all wet, do we?"

"Yes!" Expression innocent, Goth laughed and exclaimed, "It's funny! Dunkle Error laughed lots when uncle Spright slipped!"

"...Dunkle Error isn't the best role model, hatchling."

Blinking innocently, the child confusedly added, "But daddy laughed too."

"...So, about those bubbles!"

"BUBBLES!"

Chuckling, Reaper set Goth down on the bathroom floor and instructed him to shut the door. While the child was busy with that, he took up the task of prepping the bath and getting the running water up to temperature. Slightly too cold and the little guy would refuse to get in. "Do you need help with your clothes?"

"No!" Goth said. Seconds later, he squawked in distress, "Yes! Daddy, help!"

Stars, Reaper loved his kids. 

With a few tugs, Goth was freed of his stuck clothing and being helped into the tub. Near instantly, the child eagerly took up the bottle of bubble solution his father got out for him and poured it directly into the stream of water. "BUBBLES!"

Within moments, Goth was nearly completely hidden in the mass of bubbles.

"Okay, baby bird," Reaper laughed, "that's enough. Daddy needs to see you to help wash."

"...A liiiiiittle more?" Goth trilled cutely.

It was adorable, but Reaper merely snorted and shook his head. "No, hon." For good measure, he put the bubble bath away. "Let's get you clean!"

Reaper moved the bubbles to one side, watching them slide back towards his son regardless of his efforts. Goth giggled at the attempt and tried to shape something from the bubbles. "Bubble castle! Bubble castle!" 

"Let's get you cleaned up first, baby bird, okay?" 

Pouting, Goth splashed the water. "Castle, daddy! Castle!!" 

"No, Gothy." Reaper pulled out some soap and turned him around.

Squirming, Goth whined, a pout settling on his face as his father gently ran a cleaning cloth over his skull. "Daddy...!" he complained, grumbling when all he was met with was an apologetic smile and comment to settle down a bit. "I wanna make the castle."

"After you're clean, Goth. Here," digging through a basket hooked onto the wall, Reaper out another soft cloth and handed it to his son, "use this on your face and front, okay? I'll double check that you didn't miss anything once I'm done with your back. If you're extra good, I'll let you play with the bubbles and some of PJ's bath crayons."

Eye light flashing into the shape of a star, Goth clumsily poured some of his soap onto the cloth before all but smacking it onto his face. "Gonna do good!" he announced, sockets clenched shut tightly as he scrubbed his face.

Smiling, Reaper returned to wiping Goth's skull, quick glances at his son's face ensuring that the little guy didn't accidentally smother himself in his hurry to clean. "Wanna learn a song while we wash you up, hatchling?"

"Yes!"

He thought of all the ones he knew before deciding on something wordless. If Goth was really incorporating sounds into his words, then a simple tune to work his vocals would be good to slowly start stretching his range. "Okay, repeat after me~"

For a while, the bathroom was filled with nothing but pretty musical tunes. Chips and trills and various wavering sounds mixed in with normal lovely hums and stretched vowels. A lot of it was nonsense, but it was _fun_ nonsense that had the benefit of getting Goth to settle down and focus as he washed. When Goth demanded he get to try making his own song without Reaper's guidance, the god chuckled but fell silent to let the little guy do as he liked. Honestly? It wasn't that bad.

Unfortunately, Goth's little birdsong was interrupted by a sharp cry when Reaper ran the cleaning goth over his scapula. 

"No!" Goth screeched, jerking away from the touch. "Owie, daddy!"

Reaper frowned, "Owie? Did that hurt, baby?"

"Owie..." Goth simply whined in response.

Frown deepening, the god waved some bubbles away to inspect his son's back. Aside from a tint of lavender to his joints and bones from the heat of the bath, there wasn't anything unusual. Carefully, he ran his thumb over the spot he washed over. Just like with the cleaning cloth, Goth jolted and cried out, "Owie!"

"Honey, did you hurt your back?" There were no scratches or cracks, but maybe he strained something?

Goth shook his head sharply and murmured, "Owie," again. 

"Is it both your shoulders?" Goth nodded sharply and turned teary sockets up to him. Frowning, Reaper murmured, "Okay hon, we'll leave them alone, but we might need to get them checked later." 

Goth nodded and turned his back to him again, scrubbing his chest and starting up a wordless tune again. 

Reaper made sure to be gentle for the rest of Goth's bath, letting him play with PJ's crayons and making a mental note to replace them later.

When the water began to cool, he wrapped his son into a towel and sat him on the closed toilet seat where Goth hummed and kicked his little legs about; amusing himself as his father cleaned. 

Warm and clean and comfortable, Goth yawned, "Daddy, m'sleepy now..." he murmured, sockets growing heavy. 

Wiping bath crayon off the wall, Reaper made sure everything was neat and no water was om the floor before tossing the wet cloth into the laundry hamper along with Goth's clothes. "Think you're ready for a nap?" he asked softly, lifting his towel bundled son and carrying him to his shared room with PJ to dress. "You want to lie down in your bed so you can sleep?"

Goth shook his head, small hands curling in Reaper's robe and head dropping onto his shoulder. "I want mama."

It took some untangling, but, eventually, Reaper got his son to let go so he could sit him on his bed. "Mama will _love_ to nap with you, baby bird."

"... _And_ daddy?" Goth asked, blinking up at him with wide, sleepy sockets once his head popped free of the shirt Reaper tugged over his skull. "

Humming thoughtfully, Reaper tilted his head and thought over his schedule. With everything going on... Frowning slightly, he helped Goth into his underclothes and pajama pants and regretfully shook his head, sighing, "Sorry, baby. Daddy has to do some work."

Goth whined and clung to him to tightly once he was back in Reaper's arms. "No! Stay, daddy! Gotta nap with Gothy and Mama!"

"Goth, honey, daddy needs to wor-"

"NO!" Goth screeched, tears starting to fill his sockets. "Stay! Daddy, _stay!_ Stay, stay, stay!"

"Goth," Reaper crooned, bouncing him slightly in an attempt to calm him, "sweetie, I _can't_. If daddy doesn't work, he'll get in trouble. Do you remember Mr. Asgore? He'll put daddy in time out. Not just that, daddy will feel _really_ icky if he doesn't work. His head will hurt like that time Gothy got sick."

But his son wasn't listening. Screeching louder, he slammed little fists against Reaper's shoulders and kicked his legs; flailing and screaming and sobbing as they entered the kitchen where Geno was busy working on the dishes.

At hearing his son's temper tantrum, Geno looked over and glanced between his husband and his son. "What happened?" 

"Goth wants us to nap with him, but I need to go to work..." 

Geno frowned and dried his hands. "Goth, you know daddy has to work. He'll be home in time for dinner and you'll see him again, okay?" 

But the child was still crying. Sighing, Geno took his son's face and looked at him. "Goth, look. Do you want to nap with mommy? Or do you want to wear yourself out and nap by yourself? Because mommy's not going to want to nap with you if you're screaming and crying the whole time." 

With sockets still full of tears, Goth blinked up at him and whimpered, "With mommy _and_ daddy." 

"Daddy's going to be busy with work, hon. It's either me or by yourself." 

Though he kept his voice gentle, Geno wasn't going to budge. And that became fairly apparent to the child, since he quickly stopped his tantrum. He wiped his face on the towel and looked back to Geno. "Nap with mommy." 

Reaper smirked, gaze soft as he watched his first smile and take Goth into his arms.

"C'mon, sweetie. Let's say goodbye to daddy so we can take that nap." Hefting his son up a little higher on his hip, Geno shuffled on his feet and leaned up a bit to press a kiss to Reaper's jaw. "Be safe, hon. Res left for work a little before you came down, so he said he's only a phone call away if anything comes up and you need help."

Catching Geno's chin and pulling him in for a real kiss, Reaper smiled. "Good to know. Need me to pick up anything on the way back?" he asked, stepping closer to hold his first and smooth his hand over Goth's skull. Despite the energy he showcased during his tantrum, the little guy was nearly asleep. "Food? Drinks?" he winked, "Condoms?"

Geno snorted, "like we don't have enough of those already."

"Hey, just asking in case our stock needed to be replenished~"

"No need to replenish what you never used." Geno murmured, smirking slightly as he used his hip to bump Reaper away. "Get going, bastard. Be safe."

"Be safe." Reaper repeated back, eyes soft yet concerned. "I heard someone stomping around the kid's playroom, so I'm assuming that's Ru. The guardian is in the guest room, and Ink and PJ are asleep. Spright?"

"In his room relaxing. He loves the kids, but he hasn't had alone time in ages."

Nodding, Reaper began heading to the door, Geno following behind to see him off with their softly snoring son. "Love you, Geno." the god whispered, one last kiss being stolen. 

Geno smiled. "Love you too, Reaper. Now get out of my damn house."

Still, the god paused, searching Geno's face. He wanted to come back as soon as possible, but... but the last time... Geno seemed to sense his hesitation. He took Reaper's hand, murmuring, "Error made Ink promise to stay. I'll be okay, hon. Worry about yourself out there." 

Reaper sighed, squeezing his hand back. "I... I know..." he nodded, "Okay, yeah..." he mustered up a grin to hide his concern. With a nod, he let Geno go and left. 

Geno closed the door, turning the lock. He glanced at the kitchen, where dishes still needed to be done. He shrugged. _Eh, I'll do it after the nap_... He walked up to where Ink was curled around PJ and crawled in next to them with Goth in his arms. 

Ink hummed softly, snuggling his back closer to Geno's, pulling PJ closer to his chest.

Smiling, Geno let his socket fall shut and settled down, Goth wrapped up and safe in his arms.


	31. Dream Stays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the fluff continues~!

By the time Ink awoke, the afternoon sun he recalled shining through the window before he and PJ turned in for their nap was no where to be found. In it's place, the darker tones of dusk were painted across the sky and the little form previously curled up in his arms was gone.

Before he could panic, soft, whispered voices and familiar hues caught his attention.

"Like this?" PJ questioned, voice low. Though his sockets were shut, Ink still saw the bright yellow hues of his son's happiness.

They melded almost seamlessly into what he was sure was Error's own pleasant shades. "Yeah, baby brat. We'll have to get you and your brother needles meant for tinier hands, but you're doing pretty good with what you have now. Goth, let me see the doll you're makin- oh, yeah. Good job!"

"Dunkle, shhh," Goth hushed, "mama and dunkle Ink are napping."

"Yeah, yeah," Error grumbled, "scoot closer you two. I'm going to show you how I sew the button for the eye on. Remember that you're not allowed to use any of this alone though, okay?"

"Good evening, Inkblot." Dream's voice sounded, soft to be less noticeable but startling despite the soothing tone. Ink hadn't sensed him. "You can stop pretending to be asleep."

Blinking his eyes open, Ink slowly sat up. Well, he tried. A quick glance down revealed Geno clinging to his waist, clearly fast asleep. Warmed by affection, Ink placed a hand on his skull and settled for leaning back against the pillow, his sleepy eyes catching Error's who nodded from where he was seated on a nest with their children and- Ink blinked. "Is...is that a doll? _Of Geno?"Oh. Oh, man_. Ink grinned widely, "He thought Geno was cute. Like a little doll. I didn't-" he laughed, "I didn't think Ru would actually make one that sized when I told him about it. Stars, it's _life-sized!"_

Dream sighed, but his smile was amused and his eyes were warm. "Are you feeling better? You two have been sleeping for quite a few hours now. It's almost dinner, actually. I, um," he chuckled nervously, "I hope you don't mind that I'm staying the night again? Error said it's okay, but I kind of feel like I'm imposing. There..." faltering, Dream sighed, "there hasn't been much else to do, though. Blue has been monitoring, but no signs of my brother or _any_ of his nightmares have been around. I...I'm not sure why, but they're all laying low." Usually, they'd be out and about; gloating over their boss' recent victory.

Ink's grin faded and his gaze shot back to Dream. "...nothing...?" 

Dream shook his head. A confirmation that nothing indeed was going on. 

"We should-" Ink froze.

_"Make a promise, Ink. To me, to Dream. To our husbands. Make a promise to every family member in this house right here, right now with Dream and I to witness. Don't do anything stupid before you're healed. You and Dream can plan all you want, but don't- no rushing off. If it requires you to stand, then no. Not until you're- not for a week. You may think you're fine, but you're an idiot. You- you don't know anything. So... please, Inky. Promise me you won't go world jumping or hunting after 'End' for at least a week. Just...just one."_

Ink looked to Geno instead, murmuring, "Stay as long as you want, Dream. We're friends, you're not imposing." Gaze shooting to the kids and Error, his voice dropped more when he met Dream's gaze again. "Nothing? _Anywhere?_ Not... not even a _hint?_ Dream, when?" 

"Since Af- since you came back home." 

He subtly tightened his grip on Geno. "Blue hasn't had a single disturbance from any of them _anywhere?_ Not even End?"

"Not even End. I asked Blue to let me know-" 

"Is he caught up?" 

A slow nod, "He is-" 

"And _noth_ -" 

"Inkblot," Dream gently rested a hand on his shoulder. A soothing color flowed through him, and Ink closed his eyes. "Hon, nothing's happened. At all. Anywhere. With any of them. Blue would have contacted me, and I've been keeping regular contact with him. He's okay." 

"Something's not right." 

"Ink-" 

" _Dream_ , something-" 

Dream squeezed his shoulder firmly, "Stop. You _promised_ , okay? I just... you needed to be caught up a little..." 

His gaze slid to the kids and Error, and Ink's followed. The artist's voice broke and became a whisper, "I won't let him hurt them... I won't, I _won't_...."

Softening, Dream pushed himself off of his chair and took a seat at Ink's side, though he was careful to move slow so that his weight on the bed wouldn't disturb Geno. "Ink..." 

Gone unseen by both Stars, Error's eyes flickered up in a quick, narrowed glance before his attention seemly returned to the doll he was working on while entertaining the children.

Sockets still heavy from sleep, Ink pressed his weight into Dream's side and absently smoothed his hand over Geno's skull, his symbols flashing rapidly due to his intense worry and fear. "Dream, I... I don't like this." he whispered, "You know better than anyone that Nightm- he doesn't just...disappear. Laying low after a victory like that? Dreamboat, he... the last time he did something like that-"

The Stars shared a shudder. Once, long ago, Nightmare went AWOL. The terror he unleashed with his reappearance...

"We _have_ to find him." Ink whispered, hand cupping Geno's cheek gently as he watched his first interact with the children. Slumping further against Dream's comforting warmth, he pleaded, "Please, Dream. I... I know I promised, but I can't let him hurt my family. I...I _won't_ ," repeating his earlier mantra, Ink fought against the tears that wanted to spill, "I won't."

" _We_ won't, Inkblot." Dream corrected with a reassuring, supportive smile. "Like I said, there just isn't much that be done, but that doesn't mean _nothing_ is being done at all. Everything we _can_ do is already being put into action. Blue has been on surveillance and will remain on there until you're healed up. I've contacted our allies across the multiverse too, so we have extra eyes and ears keeping a lookout for even the smallest of rumors of trouble that may be linked to my brother. If he shows himself, we'll know. And-" Dream hesitated.

Tilting his head down to meet his eyes, Ink quietly urged, "And...?"

The golden guardian smiled uncertainly. "Without much else to do, I'm able to stay here for as long as this so-called peace lasts. I know I'm just your friend, but maybe you ask your-"

"Stay."

Startled, Ink and Dream turned to look at Error. "Ru?"

Despite being called out and feeling the weight of their stares, Error didn't look up from the small red scarf he was wrapping around the doll's neck. "Stay, guardian," he said, "for however long you're able. Out of all of us, you're the best defense against that damn asshole you call a brother. Don't repeat that, brat." he scolded, catching PJ shaping the words. "You two weaken each other, right? You being here gives him less of a reason to show...hopefully. So stay. Besides," brow raised, he glanced in their direction, something unreadable in his eyes and too complex for Ink to read, "you _three_ are looking pretty comfortable."

Realizing that he and Ink were practically cuddling, Dream flushed and went to pull away. _Wait, three?_ His confusion at the statement was short lived when a tug kept him from moving far. Glancing down, he found that Geno's arm had stretched and that the smaller's hand was now tangled in the hem of his shirt. When he tried gently freeing himself, the glitch grumbled in complaint and gripped tighter.

Ink cracked a smile again, "There you have it, Dream. Three out of four husbands agree." 

Dream blushed brightly, hiding his face in his scarf. "I-If you insist... I feel pretty usel-" 

"Trash talking's gonna come from me, guardian." Error narrowed his sockets at him. "Besides, you're not gonna _stay_ the positivity guardian if you keep thinking like that." 

Ink stretched slightly, smoothing his hand over Geno's. He gently coaxed the smallest husband's fingers unclenched from Dream's shirt, just for him to tangle fingers with Ink. Dream slipped off the bed to stand to the side awkwardly. "E-Error, are you-?" 

"Yes, I'm sure," Error's voice was dry, as if he was trying not to snap at him, or call them idiots in front of the kids. Ink cuddled Geno closer, trying to decipher Error's expression and colors, but the other wasn't looking at them anymore. "This doll's almost done. We'll have to get it to Fell somehow. It'd be funnier if it just showed up in his room..."

**"I f i t j u s t s h o w e d u p, h u h?"**

Surprisingly, Geno slept through Error's loud, glitching shriek from the lightning bolt of terror that shot through him at the rasping voice spoken from just behind his head.

Goth grinned brightly and chirped out a happy, "Hi, daddy!"

Dream was instantly ready with a bow and arrow poised on Reaper as Ink summoned his brush to his free hand and growled lowly. It took a few seconds for both empaths to sense that it truly was the Elder God of Death, and nobody else before they relaxed. 

Reaper smiled and lifted Goth up. "How was your nap, little bird?" he cooed. The Stars exchanged glances and dispersed their weapons. 

Panting through the settling emotions, Error put the doll aside and crawled away from Reaper and towards the others, muttering, "Fucking asshole, I'll fuck you the fuck up... fucking bastard..." He shot a glance to PJ who's sockets widened and an innocent smile grew in the child's face. Error's own sockets narrowed and he shook his head slightly. 

"No repeating daddy's words!" PJ grinned brightly at him. "I know!" 

"Ru, how much have you been cursing in front of our child?" Ink leaned near where Dream stood to peer down at his first. Geno groaned softly at being uncomfortable, and he cracked a socket open.

"Shut the fuck up." Error grumbled. "I'm mad at you too, asshole. Why the fuck didn't you tell me he was there?"

Although he knew his trick was more than a little mean with the high tension from the last few days, Reaper couldn't help but smile and laugh when he caught the question.

"They weren't looking in this direction." Adjusting Goth in his arms, he lowered himself to the ground and made his way to the bed, unknowingly claiming the spot Dream abandoned. "Inky, Ru," he greeted, "Gen~" he crooned, earning himself a sleepy blink. When his eyes landed on Dream, his amused smile grew. "Literal walking Dream man."

Dream's face, already colored from a few moments ago, darkened. "W-wha-"

Ink gasped, "Ooooh, it's true! Dream! You're a _literal_ Dream man! Dream skeleton? _The man of my **Dreams** ~"_

"...Did we get married when I was asleep?" Geno murmured, confused.

"Yeah," Error scowled sarcastically, "just one big happy fivesome-" 

"Ohh, Ruru~! I like those thoughts!" 

Both Error and Dream's faces illuminated brightly. "Th-that's nOT WHAT I MEANT!"

Whispering, Dream said, "I-I think I'll just-" 

" _Come_ here?" Reaper winked at him. "How naughty of you!" 

_He was enjoying every bit of this, wasn't he?_ Ink grinned as Dream fidgeted. The artist looked to his first, who now sat by the bed glaring up at Reaper. 

"I-intolerable!" Dream stuttered out, walking to the door. "I c-can watch over this place f-from my- _the_ guest room!" 

Reaper's grin dropped slightly, "Dream, you don't have to go right now if you don't want to."

For a moment, Dream's shields wavered and Ink caught a small hint of something before the guardian strengthened his hold on his own emotions. _What was that?_ Ink wondered, a slight frown on his face. Yellow? But no, not quite. There was something mixed in he wasn't able to inspect long enough to identify. 

"I-it's, um, it's fine." Dream mumbled, eyes averted and face flushed. 

They didn't need Ink's abilities to see the guilt in the god's eyes. "...I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I'll stop, Dream," he said seriously, "so, really, you don't have to go if you're just doing so because I pushed too much."

"He's harmless." Geno spoke up, yawning as sat up and stretched. Seeing his mother more awake than before, Goth chirped and crawled from his father's lap onto Geno's, bringing a smile to the glitch's face. "I mean, aside from the whole Death thing. He's a bit of an asshole," Reaper sulked, "but Reaps isn't really that bad."

Still a little flustered, Dream shook his head. "Oh, no. I... I'm not uncomfortable. Promise. I just-!" he hesitated, lost on what to say. "I wouldn't want to intrude on any family time."

 _Oh for fucks sake-!_ "Just _stay_ , idiot." Error grumbled. "If you want."

"If even grumpy pants is saying it's okay, then it's really okay, Dream!" Ink smiled at him. 

Dream met each of their eyes, lingering on Ink's a moment longer before dropping his gaze to his feet. "O-okay." He shook his head, smiling at them all again. "Okay, thank you." 

Nuzzling the smallest husband, Ink kissed his head and gently withdrew his arms from him. Geno groaned a soft complaint, but Ink was already swinging his legs over the opposite side of the bed, rubbing his eyes. 

Error stared at him, frown growing. He stood up and walked to Ink, reaching for him. "I'm okay, Ru." He brought himself to his feet, legs barely even shivering. Ink turned a successful smile to Error, though the other still stared with concern.

Lowering his outstretched hands, Error frowned a bit and hesitantly stepped back. "Just...just be careful, okay?"

Eyes soft, Ink nodded in understanding. "I'll be careful, Ru, but, really, I'm okay. I've been resting for nearly four days now. If I'm in good enough shape that I was able to summon Broomy, then I can-"

 _"Fuck!"_ Geno hissed.

Ink blinked. "Well, probably, but that isn't what I planned to say, honey."

Shooting him a nasty glare, Geno gently nudged a protesting Goth off of his lap before scrambling out of bed. "Why didn't anyone wake me? I should have started dinner more than a hour ago!"

Ink blinked, "Hon, we still have a bunch of leftovers, right? It's okay-" 

"N-no, I had a plan for dinner! Res-! Where's Spright?" 

"He was cleaning up the living room last I saw," Error tilted his head. 

Nodding, Geno made his way out the room and down to the kitchen. Error glanced to Ink, searching his husband for any weakness or any indication he would pass out or something, but Ink really seemed fine. 

PJ scrambled to his feet and ran after Geno with a bright expression. "I wanna help dinner!!" Reaper lifted Goth to his arms when the child complained about being out of mama's arms.

Chuckling, Ink glanced between his husband and Dream before nodded towards the door. “Shall we?” He asked with a grin.

Error shrugged, looking almost careless if it weren’t for the way he were watching Ink from the corner of his eye. “Not like there’s much to do up here. The entertainment left.”

Ink’s smile twitched. “Well-“

 _Oh, Stars, no_. “Ink-“ Dream began.

The protector grinned and winked. “There’s _plenty_ of ways we could entertain ourselves up here. In the bedroom. Together.”

Simultaneously just _done_ , Dream and Error met each other’s eyes, nodded, and walked out of the room.

“W-wai- Dream! Ruru! Don’t leave me behind!”

The bastard was laughing.


	32. Gothy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a child takes after their parent! <3

Dinner ended up being a little late into the evening but, as always, was a pleasant affair. 

Well, for the _most_ part.

Throughout prep work and the actual event of cooking, Goth grew increasingly restless in his father’s arms. “Mama,” he constantly whined, squirming in Reaper’s hold and reaching out for Geno no matter how often his parents gently informed him that Mama couldn’t hold him _and_ cook at the same time. When they offered to pull up another chair for him so that he could help like PJ was doing, he shrieked out denials at them, crying out for Geno louder and throwing a fit when it earned him a time out.

Unfortunately, the five minutes in the corner, though horrible for the little guy, wasn’t enough to straighten his behavior out.

Reaper did his best to entertain him and keep the child appeased, but his earlier “betrayal” of having to leave for work kept being thrown in his face by his grumpy son.

“No!” Goth whined at one point, pushing Reaper’s face away when he went in for a nuzzle. “Daddy is meanie! Didn’t wanna nap with mama and Gothy! Want Mama! Mama, not daddy!”

“Gothy-“

“NO!” The child screeched.

The second dinner was ready to be plated, the god ushered Geno into the dining room with Goth; desperate to get the little guy to settle down. Which he did! ...For a bit.

“Is he okay?” Error questioned, brow raised and eyes worried as he watched Goth push away yet another spoonful of food. It was abnormal for him to eat so little. “I heard that fit he had.”

“I think the whole house heard that fit.” Geno sighed, “C’mon, sweetie, just a little? You need to eat.”

“No...” Goth whimpered, squirming around until he could bury his face in Geno’s shirt. “Dun wan...”

“Gothy,” Reaper crooned, “just one bite?”

The child broke down in a fit of tears. “No!”

“Gothy...” PJ whined, tearing up with his upset at his brother’s poor mood. 

Sighing, Geno pushed away from the table and stood with Goth in his arms. “I’m going to take him upstairs. If he’s coming down with something, then it’ll be best for him to get some more rest.” 

“Want me to wrap your plate?” Ink offered, frowning slightly as he took in the cooler hues around Goth. 

Smiling slightly, Geno nodded. “Yeah, I don’t think he’s going to let me go for a while.”

Goth's cries could still be heard once he was upstairs, but they faded moments after the door was closed. True to his word, Ink took Geno's plate into the kitchen and made sure to wrap it for later. 

Error kept an eye on his first, but asked Reaper, "This didn't really start until today, do you think he's sick...?" 

"I don't know..." he sighed. "I don't know if he's sick or hurt or something. I was washing his back and he cried out when I touched his shoulders. Maybe he's still grumpy about that?" 

Dream glanced between them, continuing to eat his food. _He hadn't **felt** sick, but when was the last time he dealt with a sick, grumpy child?_

"Maybe it's growth pains?" Ink offered when he came back in. 

"Personal experience, squid?" 

"Jealous, Ru?" Ink winked cheekily, but glanced at Reaper seriously. 

Reaper considered it as he took another bite of food. Crestfallen and blue now that his brother wasn't there, PJ picked at his plate and murmured, "PJ go...?" 

"You definitely need to eat more, hon," Error turned eyes to his son and smiled. "Don't worry about the other baby abomination, your dunkle Geno's taking care of him, but you don't want to make yourself sick, do you? Good, then eat up."

Heaving a great big sigh, PJ shoved a spoonful into his mouth, eyes sad and little shoulders drooped. “Brother...” He whined, mouth full.

The remaining adults shared a look. _Poor guy_...

When dinner continued and PJ eating turned into PJ sadly pushing his food around his plate, Error sighed, “Okay,” time to try something else, “do you want some cereal instead, baby brat?”

PJ perked up slightly. “Marshmallows?”

“Yeah, the one with marshmallows. _But,_ ” Error added, voice and expression stern, “if you get marshmallow cereal now, then you have to eat your leftovers for dinner tomorrow, okay? No wasting food.”

Staring at his plate in contemplation, PJ nodded. “Marshmallows!”

“Marshmallow cereal it is then.” 

Ink cringed slightly, a look that was shared by his other husband and brother in laws. At Dream’s confused expression, he chuckled weakly, “A nap _and_ sugary cereal at this hour? He’s going to be bouncing off the walls when it’s his bedtime.”

“At least he’s happy?” As he spoke, Reaper’s eyes were on the ceiling, faced in the general direction of where the boys’ room was located. “He and Goth have been practically joined at the hip since the move in. They’re so sensitive to each other’s moods that we’re probably lucky Ru was able to improve his mood at all.”

“Did they get along before you all lived together?” Dream asked curiously.

Entering the dining room with a bowl of sugary cereal he quickly exchanged for PJ’s plate, Error frowned; his sockets narrowed in thought. “Kinda?”

“Goth can be shy.” Reaper interjected, “He isn’t always the best around strangers so PJ took some getting used to. After a few play dates though? You woulda thought they’d known each other since diapers.”

Eyeing the cloud of concern around his god, Ink reached over and placed his hand on Reaper’s cheek. “Why don’t you go upstairs with them, hon?” He suggested, smiling wider when Reaper finally tore his eyes from the ceiling in order to look at him. “We can wrap your food too.”

Hesitating slightly, the god glanced around the table. “Okay...” He agreed upon being met with nothing but nods. “Thanks, hon. Gen and I will see you all tomorrow if we’re not down later.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Error shooed him away with a wave, “go fawn over your baby bird.”

The god kissed each of them thanks, nuzzled PJ, and said bye to the other three before heading up the stairs to check on them. 

Spright stared at Error with an exhausted grin on his face as PJ chowed down on his marshmellows. _"WHY-???"_ flashed on his glasses, though he _knew_ why. Respite's gentle but loud voice sounded, "Perhaps PJ Will Be Interested In Some Backyard Play After Dinner?" 

"Dark," the child mumbled through another spoonful of food. 

"Not a problem," Dream winked at him, feeling a fondness for the children growing in his SOUL.

PJ's eyes brightened and he looked to Error. "Light in a doll!!" 

Error blinked, looking between the two.

"...I feel like I'm missing something." he admitted, sockets narrowed. 

Dream smiled nervously. "It's nothing bad." he reassured, slightly thrown by the sharp, narrowed eyes glaring at him. _I don't feel any anger...?_

Error frowned, "No shit. You're literal positivity. Why would it be bad?"

"You're, um, well..." Error's sockets narrowed further, and his nervous smile grew, though there was an itch starting to form in his finger tips akin to someone's hackles rising. _Don't pull your bow out at the dinner table, Dream. Not until he actually attacks_. Which was a horrible thought to have, but a reasonable one given the unfriendly expression being thrown his way.

Ink blinked, a question mark appearing in one of his sockets when Dream seemed to tense. "Dreamboat...?" confused, he followed his friend's line of sight to Error. Then, it hit him and a loud, amuse snort broke the stare by drawing both skeleton's attention to him.

"What are you laughing about, idiot?" Error frowned.

Ink grinned. "Ru, you should put your glasses on."

“No.” 

"Ruuuuu," he whined, "it makes sense for you to wear them if you're going to be playing with PJ in the dark."

_"No."_

Ink's sockets grew wide and watery, the symbols wavering around his tears. Error stared with a blank expression, but as time went on and Ink's expression grew sadder, the bland look he wore cracked more and more before shattering at the sight of a single dramatic tear dripping down Ink's unstained cheek.

With a sigh, he pulled rounded red frames from his pocket and steadied them on his face. "Happy?"

 _Oh_ , Dream blinked, embarrassed, _that... wasn't a glare, was it?_ Maybe he should have listened more the time Ink gushed about Error's eyes...?

"Outside now?" PJ asked, pushing his empty bowl away.

Ink looked to him, "Wow you really finished that fast, huh?" 

Respite rose from his seat, taking his plate to the kitchen. Spright grinned at the tallest skeleton and glanced to the others. "C'mon, PJ. Uncle Res and I'll play some games with ya!"

"Dream? Ru? Go with them?" 

Dream frowned at him. "You're not gonna try anything when we're outside, are you?" 

"Maybe the new dish soap you all bought?" Ink shrugged, gathering dishes into his arms. "I'll still be here." 

Dream and Error exchanged looks until the latter sighed. "Anything happens to my son, I'll kill you." 

"WHEEE!!!" 

The three of them whipped their gazes to the excited squeal, to see Spright on his skateboard, holding PJ's hands as the child stood just in front of him, also on the skateboard. "Outside! Outside!" they chanted together, before jumping the curb of the back door that Respite held open.

Breathing in deeply, Error shut his eyes. "...After I kill him." he growled, sockets snapping open and seeming sharper behind the lenses of his glasses. 

At the actual flare of bloodlust, Dream startled. "I'm going to supervise," _and possibly stop a murder_ "behave, Ink. Okay?"

Nodding his head with a bemused expression, Ink grinned. "Go on, you two. Like I said, I'll be here."

**C R A S H**

"...D-daddy," PJ called, a waver in his voice, "owie!"

Dream bolted after Error when the destroyer darted away, now _certain_ that he was going to have to prevent a murder.

Left in the dining room alone, Ink watched them go with a smile.

It was nice seeing them get along.

———

There was some sort of commotion going on outside but, thankfully, it wasn't loud enough to disturb Goth from the rest he was finally getting, though his sleep was far less peaceful than either of his parent's would have liked.

"Poor baby..." Geno murmured, gently stroking his son's skull. 

Leaning against him, Reaper sighed, "I don't know what's wrong. You said you checked his temperature?"

"Three times. Whatever is going on, it's not related to a fever. Even if it was though, Goth doesn't usually get like this when he's sick, Reaps. I..." Geno slumped, eye worried and dull, "...I'm really worried, Reaper."

"Hey, no. It's going to be okay, honey." At the first sight of tears, the god softened and pulled his first onto his lap, careful to keep from waking their son. "If he isn't feeling better by morning, then we'll take him in to get looked at. Whatever is bothering him, we'll know by the afternoon, okay? And we'll fix it. Just..." tugging his sleeve over his hand, Reaper wiped the tears from his husband's face. “...don't cry, Gen. It'll be okay."

Geno sniffled and raised a hand to help the god rid his face of tears. "O...oka- Gothy? Honey?" he called out, sliding out of Reaper's lap and leaning in closer to his son when he heard a small noise. "Baby, did you wake up?"

Eyes still shut, Goth whined. Still asleep then, but.... 

"Honey...?" Worried, Geno lightly placed a hand on his back.

At the small touch, Goth _screamed_ , his sockets flying open to reveal _two_ entirely void sockets.

Geno removed his hand as soon as he could, feeling like it wasn't fast enough. Reaper froze while Goth continued to scream and cry. "HURTS! HURTS! HURTS!" he sobbed. 

_His back? Where? His shoulders still? His-?_

"R-Reaps," Geno choked, "his back-!"

Eyes darting down to their son's back, Reaper sucked in a sharp breath; horrified over the sight of a wet purple seeping through the fabric of Goth's night clothes. That was-! Oh gods, that was blood. _Goth's_ blood.

Quickly, Reaper moved closer and grasped the hem of Goth's shirt. As gently as he could, he lifted the material but the marrow dampening the cloth had it melded to wet, bloody bone and wrenched another scream from Goth as it tugged itself free. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." Reaper whispered, pushing forward until nothing was stuck. "G-gen, can you...?"

Scrambling forward, Geno reached out and eased Goth up so that he was sitting. Screeching and crying, the small child fought to push away, but the moment Reaper had his shirt up and off his head, Geno had him on his lap and flailing arms turned to clinging as Goth desperately sought comfort from his mother. "M-mommy," he sobbed, face buried in Geno's shirt, "h-h-hurts! _Hurts!_ M-ma...m-mama!"

Biting back his own tears, Geno gently ran a hand across Goth's skull and rocked him side to side. Although he whispered comforting words and murmured soothing nonsense to his son, his eye was on Reaper; wide and fearful of the pain their son was in. 

Reaper, meanwhile, stared at the horror of his son's back. Flushed bone, marrow leaking from deepening cracks in his shoulder blades... Shuddering, he reached forward, knowing what he needed to do, but hesitating with his shaking hands just over Goth's back.

"G-Goth...?" he rasped, going ignored. "Gothy, sweetie, I...I know it hurts, but you need to listen to daddy, okay? He's gonna make the hurting go away, but he needs your help, okay?"

"Owie! _O-owie!"_ Goth sobbed, clinging tighter to Geno and trilling in distress. 

Reaper's voice broke when he spoke. "I know, honey. It's a really, really big owie, but it'll be better soon. You just- Gothy, do you remember how Mama and Dunkle Error showed you how to make an itty bitty blaster? How you had to use _lots_ and _lots_ of magic to make it? Much more than for a bone attack?"

"Reaper, what-?" Geno began, but a pleading look from his husband stopped him from continuing. _Trust me_ , it said.

Reaper had to repeat the question twice more before it registered and Goth nodded. Relieved that he remembered, the god softly instructed, "Form that magic right now, sweetie. As much as you can, okay? Don't...don't use it though. Daddy is going to shape it for you, okay? He just needs you to help. Can you?" Shakily, Goth nodded. "Okay. Okay, hatchling. On the count of three, form your magic. One...two...three!"

Slowly, a glow appeared in Goth's eye, though the bright hue of his magic was hidden in his mother's shirt alongside his face. Still, even unseen it continued to brighten, glowing more and more as the child recalled the steps he was shown from what felt like so long ago. When he faltered, Geno curled forward over his head and softly whispered instructions in his head, voice low and calm and soothing as he tried to both help and ease his child.

"Good..." Reaper shakily praised, a hand hesitantly settling between Goth's shoulder blades. _Stars, this is going to hurt_... "Just a little more, Gothy."

When a faint purple outline appeared around their son, Reaper summoned his own magic and began directing all of Goth's to his back. More...more...more... when he could practically feel it in his hand, his fingers curled into a tight fist. 

"M...mama..." Goth whimpered, worn, "d-dad-"

In a sudden, sharp movement, Reaper _tore_ his fist backwards; tearing the magic from Goth's back alongside a scream so loud it echoed throughout the house and sent even the adults outside running.

Just as the door to his bedroom slammed open, dark wings wet with blood and glistening with magic broke free from Goth's back.

All the adults stared, huffing, with various levels of breathing and items in their hands. Ink was leaning heavily against Spright, a dull throbbing where it hurt with Goth. PJ shoved himself between their legs, reaching for Goth, "Brother!!!" He cried. 

Reaper flung his hand out, "Wait." Gently, he spoke, "Goth, honey..." Geno shivered, looking up at him.

Whimpering through the aftershocks of pain, Goth pulled his face free from Geno's dampened shirt; his sockets wide and wet with the tears dripping down his face. Somewhat positively, his eyelight was back, though it was shrunken and wavering around the edges. Stars, he looked... 

Heart clenching, Geno gently cupped his face and stroked his cheeks with his thumbs. "Gothy..." he murmured, wiping heartbreaking tears away the best he could when they were constantly replaced. "Are you okay, sweetie?"

"H-hurts..." Goth hiccupped, little hands curled tight around Geno's scarf. "O-owie,' he whimpered, "b-big owie, mama."

"Still?" Reaper questioned; concerned. Lingering aches and pains were normal, but if it was still intense... "Gothy," he crooned, trying to get his son's attention, "how big of an owie is it? Is it _really_ a big owie? Like that time you broke your arm?"

Sniffling, Goth shook his head. "N-no..."

"A smaller owie? Like...like when you fell and lost a tooth?"

"It's..." Ink frowned, ignoring the looks he received as he focused on the crying child. "It feels like a sore arm? Like... it's almost like a bruise. It hurts, but its not an overwhelming pain?"

When Reaper visibly relaxed, Geno frowned. "Reaps? What... is that good?" He was a little thrown off balance. Goth sprouting wings was the last outcome he expected from his son's distress, though it didn't seem to be the worst. Thankfully. 

The god nodded with a relieved smile. Careful to keep his touch light, he reached out and slowly eased one of Goth's wings into extending. Instinctively, the new appendage twitched, it's twin fluttering at the new, strange feeling of a touch Goth never experienced. 

"Shhh, hatchling. Daddy is just making sure your wings are okay." he cooed to his child. To the others, he explained, "Slight aches like that are normal. Anything stronger means that something went wrong." Smoothing his hand over blood soaked feather's, Reaper hummed, pleased, and moved on to inspect the other wing. "They look healthy. Perfect for his size, feathered all around..."

"...Are we just ignoring the _scream_ , the blood, and the fact that _Goth has wings?"_ Error asked flatly.

The growing smile on Reaper's face faltered. "I... I didn't think he'd inherit my wings. If I thought it was likely, I would have kept an eye out for the signs. Getting your wings..." he shuddered, an ancient phantom pain briefly spreading across his back. "It hurts. If you don't have the magic or knowledge to free them yourself, they'll break free on their own. _Slowly._ ” Guilty, he slumped. "...I should have pieced it together when I saw his back. I thought it was the heat from the water, but... Magic gathering beneath the bone? It's a big sign. The moodiness and pain were others. I..." he trailed off.

_I could have saved him a lot of pain..._

Geno and Ink moved forward, but Geno spoke first, "You _did_ realize it hon. He's okay right? You did good." 

"If we ain't needed rest before..." Spright smiled. "Dats cool, lil nephew!" 

Respite's expression softened. "So He Has Wings? Sans, You Will Have To Teach Him How To Fly. Unless Geno Is Hiding A Secret Pair Of Wings?" 

Leaning back against the pillow, Geno groaned, "Too much effort."

"Fly like daddy...?" Goth slurred, sockets growing heavy as he slumped against his mother.

Reaper's smile returned. "Yeah, hatchling. You're gonna fly just like daddy."

But the little guy was already asleep, the strain from his experience and the lack of magic in his system sending him straight into a deep, restful sleep. "Hmm...." he mumbled, wings fluttering slightly and sending little specks of blood across his bedsheets.

Sighing, Geno gently adjusted him in his arms and stood. "He's going to need another bath before bed. Reaps, can you show me what I need to do? He's never going to want to put his wings away once he _really_ realizes he has them. Oh," glancing over the bed, the glitch turned a sheepish smile to the gathered group, "can someone please change his sheets?"

"Ah, Yes, I'll Do That!"

Geno smiled and offered his brother-in-law a nod of thanks.

PJ attempted to follow after Geno and Reaper. "B-brother...?" he whimpered, expression one of distress and betrayal when Error reached out and scooped him up. 

Error bounced his tearing son on his hip. "C'mon, bud. Gothy is fine, okay? His mama and daddy are gonna wash him then he'll be back in bed. Want one of us to keep you company until he's back?"

He didn't seem to be paying attention as he continued to stare at Goth with extreme distress. Ink rubbed his cheek, "PJ?" His eyes flicked upwards, and Ink smiled softly. "Hon, do you want papa and I to stay with you?" 

He glanced back to Goth, who was being carried to the bath before nodding silently. 

"Don't even think about your dragons, abomination. You're lucky Dream was there to help you heal faster, but now you need to sleep." 

Ink rubbed his own head, sighing. "Let's all try and get some sleep. You can check on him later, ok, son?"

"Kay..." PJ murmured.

One by one, his uncles and Dream wished him goodnight, the first two pressing kisses to his head while Dream let his fingertips shine and wiggled them in a sparkling wave that managed to worm a small smile from PJ. Once the three left; however, the smile fell back into a saddened pout and his parents sighed.

"C'mon, Paperjam." Error murmured, following Ink to his bed and carefully climbing on with his husband. The three of them wouldn't fit lying down, so the parents pressed their backs to the wall and coaxed PJ into spreading out over their legs, his back to his parent's as he watched the door. "Close your eyes, hon."

"Wanna watch for Gothy..." PJ protested.

Ink pulled PJ's blanket free from where it was folded over the edge of the bed and dragged it over the displeased child. "Honey, Gothy might take awhile. If you sleep-"

"No..."

Ink and Error shared a look. _This is going to be a long night_.


	33. Haphephobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a trigger is accidentally activated... 
> 
> (And autocorrect is trying to make it "homophobia", smh)

Error woke up to an empty bed. Something he wasn't used to doing. In a fit of panic, he slammed open the door and started searching for- oh. 

Ink, PJ, Geno and Goth all looked up from the floor in the living room. In the middle of them was a huge box with... Geno in it? Ink waved and grinned, "Mornin' Ru! We were talking about if the doll would fit in here!" 

"Huh. Looks good. Where's the packing tape?" 

"Error!" Geno cried, while Goth and PJ giggled and yelled, "No!" 

"Dunkle! Dunkle!" Goth ran over and met Error at the bottom of the steps. With bright, excited eyes, he turned his back and flapped his little wings. "Lookie! Lookie!"

It took everything within him to hold back a loud bark of laughter at the sight of Goth's wings. Dry and groomed, they looked far less sleek than they had last night when blood slicked the feathers down. Now, the wings were so fluffy with baby soft down feathers that one could easily mistake feather for fur. It was... well, it was fucking _adorable_.

"Impressive." he praised, a smile spreading across his-

_Euphoria unlike anything he has ever experienced paints a wide, crazed grin across his face. All around him, a disgusting disgrace of a world burns, code torn from the very skies and grass and trees leaving empty holes that spasm and glitch as the world crumbles and the people scream. He finds it strange that someone is laughing until he realizes that the laughter is his own._

_"RuN fUcKeRs!" he shouts, laughing hysterically as directs strings straight through chests and SOULS. "RuN aNd HiDe!" It won't save you, he thinks._

_Chuckling, Nightmare steps up behind him, his smile wide and smug as he watches the chaos. Panic and fear courses through him and he devours it all greedily, eyelight a bright, toxic glow as he slides his gaze to Error. "Impressive," he murmurs, a hand coming up and settling around the back of the destroyer's neck. "Very, very impressive..."_

_Pleasure and pride settle within Error's chest. Impressive, huh? That sounds... that sounds nice._

_He wants to hear Nightmare say it more._

"Thank you, dunkle!" Goth says, his high, childish voice breaking him free from the chains of his past. Facing him again, the younger child of the two grins and flaps his wings eagerly. "Mama and dunkle Ink are gonna play, so daddy is gonna teach me how to fly!"

Error smiles, but it feels hollow. "G...g...." he tries to speak, but the words won't form. They snag on something within his throat and whatever manages to break free skips and glitches. "G...g...G..." he gets stuck staying. Eyes flashing a crowded red an fingers twitching, he keeps trying, unable to stop. "g...G...g....go...gOoD f...F...fOr yOu..."

Goth brightens, excited that his dunkle seems pleased for him, though his funny voice and words make him giggle.

Behind him, Ink and Geno still; concerned. "Bro...?"

PJ perked up instantly, staring at him. "Papa? Is papa okay?" 

Ink squished his face and kissed him on the head. "Hang out with Dunkle Ge and Gothy for a bit, okay PJ? Papa and I'll be right back!" At hearing his name, Goth ran back over and reached up for Geno to pick him up. 

The artist walked towards Error, unraveling his scarf to pass to the former destroyer to hold. At feeling the familiar fabric, Error wrapped it around his hand, Ink mimicking the action. They held each other's hands through the scarf, and Ink led him to the more private kitchen and into the laundry room. "Ru? Babe, what happened...?"

Shuddering, Error gripped the fabric in his hand tighter and shook his head. "N...n...n....oth..." he can't say it. He literally can't even say the simple lie to get him out of the conversation. Frustrated tears burn his eyes and he growls, head turned away and bowed to hide from the knowing eyes that peer at him. "N...NoTh..." he tries again.

Ink gently interrupts his third attempt. "Fringe, honey, please don't lie."

Ink's too far. He wants to drag him closer by the scarf connecting them and tuck his head under the artist's chin but the desire is outweighed by the intense feeling of needles all across his bones at the thought. Too far, but too sensitive to do anything about it. 

In that moment, he hates himself. Hates his phobia that contradicts his mind and his stuttering, glitching voice that grates hard on even his own ears. He hates the words of his namesake that glitch all around his trembling form and he hates, hates, _hates_ the phantom touch around his neck and the whisper of praise in his head.

Breathing heavily, he clenches his eyes shut.

He hates how hard he's crying.

"Fringe," Ink whispers, worried, "please. Talk to me, honey. Talk to me like you would want me to talk to you if I were the one struggling right now. Please just...talk."

 _"I'm sure you'll find a time to tell them..."_ Dream's voice rings out in his head, overtaking the memory of the guardian's brother whispering in his ear. When? When will there ever be a good time to tell them? He... he doesn't want to think about it, let alone talk about it.

But he’s watching him with worried eyes and Error knows his first is feeling the turmoil shaking his very core. "Please just...talk."

So he does. He... he tries.

"N...ni...NiGhT...m...Ma...RE..." he stuttered, though it takes multiple attempts for the broken name to form.

Ink breathed in sharply. "Here-" but Error quickly shook his head, so he stopped and frowned, thinking further on what the name alone could mean. "...A memory?" he questioned hesitantly, spreading out his abilities as far as he can to double-check that the lord of despair was no where near their home. Error nodded, but can't form much else. Can't stop trembling and stuttering to speak. 

Ink... he doesn't know a lot. Beyond what Error has been willing to share, he knows very select details about the time Error spent as a nightmare. Primarily, he's aware that it wasn't something Error hated. He was driven away for some reason, but he _liked_ what he did, even if it eventually became too much. 

Sometimes, he would catch Error whispering to himself in the night after a bad dream he didn't realize woke Ink. "I'm out, I'm out," he'd chant. Sometimes, Ink would whisper it to him too, knowing it helps.

Whatever memory came around to haunt his first, Ink knows it can't be pleasant, so he scooted as far as Error is able to allow and whispered quiet words to him, hoping to help even as he fails to understand the full extent of why that help is needed. "Gen and I were going to deliver the doll today," he whispered when Error calmed, "do you want to come? We can make chocolates while we're there?"

He watched as the colors around his husband glacially sooth to his neutral colors, and the red in his sockets fades slightly. _That black is still there..._

Even though he knew that Error couldn't handle touch at the moment, it occurred to Ink that he had _no idea_ how it felt. Right now, he just had the faint sense of _NO, LET GO_ from his hand, even though Error's grip tightened as if his lifeline was fraying. Error gave a short nod and, Ink murmured encouragingly, "We'll go when you're ready." He gave Error a warm smile that the former destroyer simply couldn't replicate. Not yet anyway. 

When they left the laundry room, Goth and PJ stormed over. Ink opened his mouth, about to warn them, but PJ grabbed Goth and skidded to a halt. "NO TOUCH! NO TOUCH!" 

"Wha???" Goth looked up at his brother then at the adults. The glitches around Error were still swarming badly enough that they made a slight static noise, but he hadn't crashed. 

"Y-yeah," Ink smiled at the kids, "Good catch, PJ!" 

Spright popped up from the couch, carrying Geno on his back. The glitch was pouting at the kids, "They abandoned me, Inky..." He looked to Error, concern flooding his face. 

"He's going to be okay, Ge, don't worry!" The former destroyer stepped slightly behind Ink, though still gripped his scarf-covered hand. _Guess there are advantages to him being taller..._ Error glanced at Ink's bare neck, seeing Geno's and his own fading rainbow-bruised bite marks.

In some strange way, the sight of them was comforting. Ink's neck was insanely sensitive, but he let them near it. _Trusted_ them to mouth at and mark up the spot that made him vulnerable. 

Hesitantly, he raised his hand, fingers hovering over his faded mark. He couldn't go any further, but...

Tugging the scarf free from his other hand, he stretched fabric out and pushed forward until the middle area he wasn't holding pressed against Ink's neck. The artist startled, but ultimately held still even as he curiously watched Error from the corner of his eye.

_It's not bone, it's not bone... It's just the scarf. I...I'm only touching his scarf._

Leaning up, Error quickly pressed his teeth to the scarf, right over the spot where his fading mark sat on Ink's neck. _Thank you_ , he thought, hoping Ink could hear the words put behind the kiss. There were a lot of reasons for the thanks, but none of them were reasons he was able to or even wanted to voice.

A blush slowly crept onto the artist's face, though his smile was warm as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the guarded kiss. 

_Pink... his favorite shades of pink.... stars, I wish I could show him this pink..._

"Ewww!" The kids chorused, before chasing each other back to the living room. Spright chuckled and set Geno back down on his feet before chasing after them and yelling, "Dunkie Reapsy's gonna be mad at ya runnin in da house, lil bros!" 

Geno snickered, but looked back to his husband and husbrah. "Ru, are you sure you'll be okay? The kids-?" 

"Actually, the three of us'll go to Underfell together!" Ink looked to Geno, "Um... if you don't mind?" 

"Are you sure...? I feel bad leaving Spright alone with the kids again... and Dream's still our guest!" 

Ink's smile softened. "Spright **loves** them, Ge. And Dream would agree with me that it'd be better if he stayed with them."

"How do you know what I'd agree with?" came the grumpy bag of bones himself. 

Error glanced to Mr. Sunshine, finding his golden self somewhat lacking in the caffeine department. A problem he was trudging over to the coffee machine to fix. 

"See? He's even getting some coffee!" Ink grinned. "He'll agree!" 

Dream stared blankly at the coffee machine, then into the cabinets where multiple bags of beans, ground and not, were sitting. He narrowed his sockets then turned a helpless pout to the others. "Where's the one Error got?" 

Amusement flickered in Error's SOUL, and he shakily pointed. "BoTtOm SheLf, f-fIrsT OnE on tHe LeFt." Dream's hand followed the instructions, "ThaT OnE," he confirmed. 

The process was slow, but once the first cup was made and drained, the second was brewing and concern lit in Dream's eyes. "Is everyone okay?" 

"Yep!" Ink grinned. "No declarations of love, Dreamboat?" 

The guardian gave a fierce scowl to his oldest friend, "I haven't the foggiest what you're talking about." 

"A-are you-? I mean," Geno stumbled over himself, "C-can you stay here while the three of us take the doll to Underfell?" 

Dream blinked, peering curiously between them. "I thought Error made Ink promise not to leave...?"

Wrapping the end of the scarf back around his trembling hand, Error shrugged, the motion jerkier than he intended it to be. "N-nOt...wOrK rE...r-ReLaTeD..." was all he managed before the stuttering worsened. 

Glancing at his brother, Geno hummed with a thoughtful expression, hands fiddling with his scarf as he did so. "I guess there _is_ a difference there. If this was a work trip, there would be a lot more stress involved. At least, I assume so...?"

Dream did a quick run through of just what they had to deal with as Stars. "No, you're right." World hopping, dealing with often stubborn individuals, dodging marriage proposals... "There's a lot of stress involved with our work. Often, there's various forms of conflict, too. A trip to a friend's house is a lot more relaxing than returning to work."

"So, you're fine with staying here...?" Geno asked hesitantly, scarf twisted in his hands and expression hopeful. 

Dream nodded with a smile made possible by coffee. "Yes, I don't mind. Actually," smiling uncertainly, he gestured to the living room, "if you don't mind, would it be okay for me to read one or two of the books you have? I asked Spright about them, but he suggested I ask you since they're yours."

"Uh...uH-Oh..." Error muttered, watching as Geno's eyes settled into the shape of a star. 

Expression bright, Geno nodded rapidly, excited that someone in the house actually wanted to _read!_ So far, Goth was the only one who seemed to share his love for literature, but, well, he was a child. "Yes!" he said excitedly, smiling brightly and letting his scarf fall from his hands. "A lot are science fiction or educational in nature but there's some other genres on my shelves too if you don't enjoy those. Hopefully, you'll be able to find something you like!"

Oh, wow, Dream blinked, _he's...happy._

Realizing he was practically bouncing in place, Geno flushed and forced himself to still. "I, uh, I'm going to go...do something. Come get me when we leave, Ink." With that, Geno spun on his heels and made his escape.

Dream stared after Geno, blinking slowly. He returned his attention back to the couple when he heard Ink shuffling slightly in place. "You workaholic... at least try to relax?" 

"You _know-"_

"Yeah. But worrying about it means you suffer twice." He looked to Error for support, and Error sighed, nodding slightly. "See? So... just let me handle it for a bit, okay? Obviously, don't be stupid, but... try to live in the moment for a bit, will ya?" He grabbed the second cup of coffee and took a sip, eyes not straying from the artist. 

Ink forced his smile to stay. "Yep! I understand!" He turned towards Error, expression softening, "C'mon, let's hang out upstairs for a bit. Maybe that'll help." 

Error huffed, annoyed that something was bothering Ink again, and even more frustrated that he couldn't make the idiot talk about it when he couldn't even get a few words out himself. He pulled Ink behind him and headed to the stairs. 

The guardian watched, eyes narrowing on Ink when he glanced back. _That idiot has probably been thinking of work this whole time... even if it were just a simple wondering..._ he shook his head and made his way over to where the kids were. 

After several failed attempts, the destroyer finally opened the door to the room he shared with Ink. He half-stumbled to the bedside table, pulling out a small Ink doll and holding it close. 

Ink sat by him on the bed, watching. "That bad, huh?" he murmured. 

Error spared him a glance, but ultimately stared at the floor.

"N...n...N..." Tensing, Error brought the doll closer and closed his eyes in concentration. "N...n..."

"Shhh, don't let your anger fluster you more, hon." Ink soothed when his first visibility started getting frustrated. He knew what Error wanted to ask for, but interrupting him by filling in his sentences would only serve to upset Error more. "Remember what you said helps? Don't fight the stutters, work with them."

"N-nnnn....n-NNnn...nOtEp-PaD..." Error requested, hands tight but gentle around his doll. 

Ink didn't praise him for getting the word out. Instead, he smile and simply did as Error meant to ask, his hand reaching out and pulling one of the many art pads he carried around in his inventory. Flipping it to a clean page, he pulled a pen from his pocket and handed it to Error for his use. 

Immediately, the shorter skeleton began scrawling across the page. His writing was messy from a shaking hand, but the written words came out much smoother than anything he would have managed verbally. Faster, too.

He watched as the former destroyer wrote, gaze going distant for the moment... 

_Dodging the strings again, Ink landed on the ground gracefully before resting his chin on his crossed arms. Broomy barely bowed under Ink's resting weight, but the artist wasn't paying any attention to that. He was staring with intrigue at the messed up skeleton with the glitches and the absolute **emotion** in him._

_How does one even carry that much emotion in a single body?_

_"Aren't you supposed to **hit** me with those things?" He called out with a grin._

_"Sh-shUt UP f-fiLtHy AbOmiNaTiOn!" he snarled, ripping more from his sockets._

_He's pretty erratic, isn't he? Ink didn't bother dodging the next attack. He saw no reason to, what when the guy was completely missing him. "What are those anyway? Are they tears? How do they work?"_

_Snarling, the skeleton ripped his hand back and the strings came tangling towards Ink._

_"I wOulD TeLl YoU bUt DeAd SkeLlyS tElL nO LiEs."_

_"You... **know** that's about a secret right?" Ink asked from behind the strange skeleton._

_With a glitched scream, he whirled around and tripped over his own feet, slamming against the ground. "Wh-wHaT?! HoW dID Y-?!"_

_Ink offered a hand and a bright smile, "I'm Ink! I'm the Protector of the AUs!"_

_"OnE oF ThE Star SaNseS-" he was quick to back away._

_Ink continued to peer at him. "Is your name Error? Wow, that'd be pretty convenient, seeing as it's written all over you. Are you okay? Do you need any help?"_

"I-InK!" Error demanded, shoving the notepad into his hands. 

Blinking several times, Ink smiled apologetically at him and looked to what he wrote.

...Nonsense...?

Frowning, Ink stared at the words scribbled onto the once clean page of his sketchbook. Letters shaped what looked to be words, but upon attempting to read anything, it became very apparent that the so-called words were just random letters thrown together to form gibberish.

 _Maybe it's a word search...?_ But no, that didn't seem right. It wasn't clear enough with the way that certain areas overlapped, letters melding together in dark portions.

Feeling a little helpless, he tried turning the notepad the other way. Error's expression told him there was _something_ actually there he was-oh.

Ink's breath caught in his throat.

Held on angle, slightly far away from his face, he realized that the words weren't meant to be read. They didn't form language but came together to form the one thing Ink always struggled to get Error to create: Art.

Messy and scribbly with no real outlines or skill, everything came together to form a picture that wasn't perfect, but was still clearly meant to be a portrait of Ink.

 _"Here, when things get really bad and you can't speak, just jot down what's most important for me to know on this and show me!"_ he recalled telling Error once.

_What's most important..._

Reaching over with the pen, Error drew a small heart on the corner of the page.

Ink practically melted right there. He looked up at Error, feeling like he was seeing him anew. Error met his gaze, still shivering slightly from the glitches, but managed a small smile in return. "Wow I really wish I could kiss you right now, Ru." 

He rolled his eyes as a blush formed. His smile stayed, subtle but there. He looked back to Ink, and the artist could sense seriousness drifting into the expression. "Heh... you want me to monologue about what's on my mind while you regain control don't you..." He dropped his gaze back to the drawing. "Alright... okay I'll..." he sighed. "I'll keep it as brief as I can..." 

Error scooted back, fluffing the pillows and flopping against them. He patted the spot next to him and, chuckling a little, Ink crawled in next to him, wrapping a bigger comforter around himself in case Error wanted to- yep. The former destroyer fought his haphephobia enough to manage hugging his husband. 

"Where should I even...? Maybe I should just list it... it makes me itch, not doing anything. I... I can tell when an AU is being messed with, and Dream, Blue and I haven't seen or heard or felt anything happen in... how many days? A week? Dream hasn't really taught me anything that he knows of empathy because he's afraid I might fall apart or something. I'm trying to respect everyone's privacy, but I find myself reaching out to each of you and making sure you're _you_ , and that you all are close by and..." Ink rubbed at his sockets. "I dunno... I can't help it? Then this... this pressure in my chest from the _silence?"_

Error sighed softly, rubbing Ink's arm through the comforter. 

He spared a smile to the destroyer. "I've been trying to remember what happened, you know. E-even though it **h-hurt**... and I s-still feel phantom pains, b-but..." Ink shuddered, voice dropping to a whisper, "R-ru, it felt like the _world_ itself was dying... and it was... And I th-think some part of me was reaching into it to try and s-stop it, but..." he squeezed his sockets shut. "W-well, you know.

"And now, that _bastard_ has been silent since then? Something's wrong. It's... it's making me itch. I try to ignore it and _live in the moment_ and enjoy the time with everyone. And I **do!** But... but there's still that part of me.. that uneasy bit that just... it keeps asking when the other shoe is going to drop. It's distracting." He looked to Error, smiling slightly. "I'm not going to break my promise to everyone. I won't do that to you. But it's not helping the... the _stress_ in me to ease. I know Dream feels it too. He's spent no more than two hours a day taking a midday nap. I'm still recovering so I've been sleeping a bunch more..." he leaned into Error's embrace, careful to not touch him directly. "I just... don't know what to do hon... and waiting fucking _sucks..."_

Error thought over his husband's words carefully. An itch, huh?

Carefully uncurling his hand from around his doll, the destroyer held both of his hands in front his face; palms facing away and fingers spread. "..."

When things got bad, his fingers always twitched; itching for the need to claw his strings from his eyes in order to wreck havoc across the multiverse. Destruction... it called to him, in a way. Unlike Ink; however, it was less of a calling and more of an impulse; a reaction of emotions running high and a temper that ran short. He didn't _need_ to destroy, but wanted it so badly that it often felt like something essential to life; like nourishment from food and drink or the air most needed to breathe.

With PJ and his family around to help curb that want, things were different. Easier to handle. The desire never fully went away, but he had children to raise and brothers to goof around with and more than one husband to love. For Error, that was enough.

For Ink, it wasn't. And... and he got it. Maybe he didn't understand it, but he... he could acknowledge the fact and accept it. Ink clearly loved them, but he wanted to protect them because of that love. To Ink, protecting others and keeping the multiverse safe was a method of keeping _them_ safe. Having nothing to protect them from...

It made him itch, like many things made Error itch.

"T...tomorrow..." he murmured, "You...y-you can...can go patrolling with Dream...a-and...and starting working again tomorrow..."

Ink shook his head, "Ru, there's... there's literally _nothing-"_

"You... you n-need t-to...." 

"I still have..." Ink trailed off, staring blankly ahead for a few moments. "Three! I think... I still have three-ish days left, and Dream's _been_ working-!" 

Error drew his gaze up to him. "Idiot.... I d-d-didn't want you t-to l-leap r-right back into i-it...."

Ink's eyes softened. "I know, Ru. It's just... I promised you a week, so I'll give you a week. It's hard," he admitted, "and I probably _will_ go diving straight into work, but I want to show you that I can be here when you ask me to be. That... that you and the family comes first sometimes, just like you always do in my heart."

"I...I...w-w-want...you...t-to...to be...happy..." Error murmured, eyes lowered as he cupped his hands around his doll.

"Oh, Ru," Stars, he wished he could really hold him, "I _am_ happy. I love my job, yeah, and all this stillness has me worried, but I _am_ happy here. I...it's nice," he smiled, "getting to have dinner together every night, cuddling PJ whenever I want, getting to see you and Reaps and Ge.... I love it. Feeling a little stir crazy can't ever take that away. It _won't_ ever take that away, okay?"

"....okay.... y-you h-haven't..... c-cooked..." 

"Yeah... yeah, I didn't want to intrude on Geno's thing... and most of the stuff I'd cook, I would need a knife and..." Error nodded when Ink trailed. off. The artist leaned back, smile growing. "You really showed them how to start crocheting? You _know_ PJ's going to find a way to make the doll come to life right? Especially when he can better manipulate inks?" 

Error shuddered, and when Ink glanced over, he caught a glimpse of horror and humor warring each other. 

"Oh... heh, you didn't quite think that far, didja?" Ink grinned at him. "And Gothy's _wings!"_ Ink gasped and sat up, bouncing slightly. "Did you notice that sometimes their eye lights change? Even Geno's does, too!" 

"Well, i-idiocy **i-is** contagious...." Error grinned at Ink's resulting cry of betrayal.

"You're so mean, Ruru." but Ink was grinning too. 

Smiling, Error leaned further into his covered husband and closed his eyes. "Ask G-Geno to cook, K-Kiki. He'll be e-excited to find out you're g-good at it. Besides, R-Reaps or I can distract him in a-another room while you use the knives. Just r-remember to hide him as soon as you're d-done."

Ink thought it over. He did kind of miss cooking.... "Okay." he agreed. Then, his smile turned teasing. "I think I'll make us tofu tonight!"

"NO!"


	34. All Dolled Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Geno is such a doll!

"You sure you're good to go?" Geno asked, fussing over his brother as they readied to leave for Underfell.

"For the millionth time, _yes."_ Error grumbled. He readjusted a thicker jacket over himself, and wore pants and gloves to better ward off the lingering needles of his haphephobia, but otherwise, he was ready. 

PJ stared up at them, pouting. "No... don't go..." 

Ink crouched down, smiling softly at him, "Don't worry hon, we're just dropping the present off. It shouldn't be more than an hour or two, okay? Behave for uncle Spright! He'll let us know if you do or don't." 

PJ clung to Ink, then stared at Error and clung tighter. "I'm hugging you too, daddy. Right now. Okay?" 

"Heh..." Error started to reach for him, but pulled back with a pained expression. He fought through it and smiled at him. "I appreciate that little abomination." 

The child seemed pleased with that, because he let go of him and hugged Geno. Goth had already said bye and was wandering over to Dream and Spright in the other room, so PJ went ahead and joined them. 

Geno watched them go, nervousness creeping into himself.

Sensing the emotion, Ink turned to him with a reassuring smile and outstretched hand. "Things will be just fine, Ge. Here at the house and during our trip."

Taking the offered hand, the glitch slowly nodded, though he couldn't quite shake his nervousness. "I know..."

Walking up to them and reaching out to grasp the end of Ink's scarf, Error shot his brother his own version of a comforting expression. That is, he narrowed his eyes through his glasses and shot him the kind of shit eating smile only a sibling could manage: 

"If you're nervous about the trip, you can get in the box with the doll. Four walls and no fresh air? It'll be like your hiding space under the sink!"

Geno scowled, an embarrassed blush high on his cheeks. "I said I wasn't hiding!"

"Yeah, well, Ink says he isn't an idiot but that doesn't make it true."

Ink pouted at him, "Take that back you brat." 

"Eh, can't take back the truth, hon." 

Chuckling at Geno's and Ink's sputtering, Dream walked with them to the front door. Error dragged the doll behind them with his strings and Ink readied his brush, pausing just slightly at the front door. "Don't worry, Geno. Spright and I will take good care of the kids, and I'll call Ink if we need you, okay?" 

Geno mumbled, pulling his phone out. "Let me just give you my phone number." After a few moments, the numbers were exchanged, and Geno's mood seemed to improve. 

Ink opened the portal, once again near the Ruins of Underfell, then waited for his husbands. He kept a look-out as Geno passed the box to Error, then stepped through himself.

"I swear, the asshole better appreciate this fucking thing." Error grumbled, trying to get a comfortable grasp on the box without tearing the wrapping paper. Why did it even need wrapping paper? Stupid Ink. "Do you know how much string this thing took? How many hours I slaved away? I'm not even being paid!"

Geno chuckled slightly, a slight hint of color bleeding into his eyelight as he glanced around. "You're such a drama queen."

"Bow, bitch."

"Notice how he didn't deny being a drama queen?" Ink whispered to Geno, tone much too loud to actually keep the words hidden from Error.

"Makes sense if if you two are the fucking _jokers..."_ Error grumbled. 

Ink weaseled up to him, a bright grin on his face, "I'll make it up to you, Ruru~! Whateeeever you want~!" he winked. "Might even get some lace underthings too~!" 

_Stupid Ink...!_

"I didn't just hear that, I didn't just hear that..." Geno mumbled, speed increasing slightly. "I didn't just hear-"

**"D i d n ' t h e a r w h a t...?"**

In the half second it took for Geno to reappear at Ink's side, the protector had his iconic brush out and held just before the neck of a strung up- "Red!" Ink hissed, lowering his brush when they registered the face of the skeleton trapped before them. "That wasn't funny!"

"Yer tellin' me!" Red said, struggling against the blue threads holding him still. "What the fuck, asshole? I was expectin' a scream and maybe a few swings at me, but ain't this overkill?!"

Error and Ink exchanged glances, the former letting him down. "It's been a long week..." 

Red muttered something to himself then looked at the present. A wide grin graced his face, "Is that it?"

Ink matched his grin with one of his own as he nodded, though the exasperated expression from the glitch half hidden behind him was an answer of its own. "Is he home?"

Red's grin grew. "Nah, but he should be soon. If we leave now, we can put the box in the living room and hide while he opens it. His reaction will be twice as fuckin' hilarious if he thinks no one is watching."

 _No wonder Inky likes being his friend_ , Error eyed the grinning skeletons, _they're both assholes_. Hypocritical of him to think? Yeah, but still true. "Are we going to stand here and chat all day or are we going to get moving? This box is annoying to hold."

"Want me to carry it?" Geno offered.

The expression he earned from Error was one usually reserved for Ink. _You're a special kind of idiot_ , it said, the reason behind the look made clear when Error handed the box of the _life-sized_ doll to the person it was made to look like. "Go ahead."

Ink snorted when Geno's head disappeared behind the box and took it into his own arms to hold. "Mind leading the way Red?" he asked, free hand reaching out for Geno who in turn glanced at Error before lightly taking his brother's gloved hand.

With a nod, Red set his hand on Ink's arm and let them through a shortcut straight into his living room, thankful for his brother's current absence the lecture he got to avoid about using the front door. "He'll be back in a few minutes." he said after a glance to the clock. Fell had a thing about being punctual.

"It feels kinda mean to spy on him..." Geno murmured as Ink set the box down on their coffee table. He faced it towards the front door, making the bow look pretty. 

Red shrugged. "It'd be meaner if we videotaped it." 

Eyes as stars, Ink started to pull out his phone, but Error narrowed his eyes at him. "Knock it off, idiot." 

Ink pouted, pocketing his phone to pull out his sketchbook instead. 

Rolling his eyes, Error turned to Red. "So, where are we waiting?"

Red looked around his house with narrowed eyes. "Best place would be in the kitchen. Hide, wait for his loud ass boots to stop near the sofa, then peek out and watch the magic happen."

Error rolled his eyes. "What if he comes in the kitchen first?"

Red's brow raised. "Big, unknown box in the middle of our house? _In **this** world?"_ Smirking, he turned to make his way to the kitchen. "Boss ain't jus gonna ignore that, thongs."

"Wh- _what the fuck did you call me?!"_

Head turning to send a shit eating grin Error's way, Red shrugged, "Thongs? Ya'know, lil stringy underwear and shit? Fits, doesn't it?" When blue threads shot out at him, Red quickly jumped through a shortcut to the kitchen. "See? Strings!"

Instantly, Ink was in _tears_. He doubled over, wheezing and snorting hard, "Thongs? Th-thongs?" repeating through his gasps for air. 

Error hissed, "You'd better not think of asking me for-" Ink stopped, a star and a question mark in his eyes when he glanced over. _**"NO!**_ You horrible idiot!! _Absolutely not!!"_

Geno struggled to keep his own laughter from echoing. He shook and wiped the tears from his eyes. 

Glancing at the clock again, Red called, "Hurry up and shut up! He's gonna be here **shortly**!!"

Ink snorted, still doubled over and looking like he didn't plan on moving anytime soon. "D-don't," he wheezed, "don't get your _panties_ in a twist, Red."

Simultaneously, Red and Geno snickered, the smaller skeleton nearly tripping on his way to the kitchen as he laughed while Red called out a reluctant, "Okay, that was _kind_ of funny."

Scowling with a flaming face, Error pushed Ink over while walking pass. When the artist yelped and fell over, he smirked. "Serves you right!" He said, just as he rounded the corner into the kitchen.

Before Ink could push himself up, distance stomping from outside was heard. _Oh no, that's-_

"Hide, idiot!" Geno hissed.

Panicking when the stomping grew louder and the doorknob began to turn, Ink made an excellent decision and ran to hide...

...right behind the sofa that the box was seated on.

Ink could hear the sound of a gloved hand slapping a skull, and could only imagine Error smacking himself in the face before the shuffling and silence. 

The door swung open and loud, halting steps entered the room before the door was slammed shut. "What the hell...?" Fell stalked towards the box cautiously, stopping to pick up the tag on the side. Another moment of silence was interrupted by the sound of paper being ripped apart with _exuberance_. 

Ink covered his mouth to try and cover the snort of laughter that wanted to escape. He peered out the side to see the Papyrus slowly open the box and slowly... _slowly and gingerly_ pull out the Geno-sized Geno-doll.

"...Oh," Fell murmured, looking over the doll with an unreadable expression that slowly softened, "it's the protector's skeleton. The one the welp wouldn't let me keep."

He squished the doll slightly, more to test the threads and the stuffing than anything else when- 

_SQUEAK!_

Fell froze, staring dumbly at it. Cautiously, he squeaked it again, and a blush slowly formed on his face. "Why does that remind me...?" 

By now, Red's face was bright with the effort to try not to laugh, and Geno's eye went wide. _Who put the squeaker in?!_

As Error glanced across the room at Ink, the former destroyer **knew** who the culprit was. He grinned and shook his head slightly, returning his attention back to the Papyrus, who kept squeaking the doll and turning a darker shade of red. 

"Huh... guess the protector wasn't kidding about this..." a genuine smile seemed to float onto Fell's face. "I suppose I'll have to think of some way to thank him..."

"Oh, I know." Fell's smile sharpened into a wide, wicked smirk. "I'll thank him _by letting him keep his life despite spying on me!"_

Sockets widening, Ink went to lunge out of the way but was stopped by a series of sharp, jagged bones slamming into the ground all around him in a makeshift cage. "F-Fell!" he squeaked, sounding much like the doll. "H-how did you-!"

Holding the doll on his hip like one would a child, Fell marched around the sofa with a firm glare on his face, though a slight blush remained smeared across his cheeks. "I am _not_ my brother, fool. You see, I am capable of rational thought and have _excellent_ puzzle solving abilities! A big, unknown box sitting on my sofa? Clearly the set up for a trap!"

Red chuckled as he walked out the kitchen. "...And I told him you were comin' over to drop somethin' off. Honestly, was hopin to prank _you_ instead of the boss. Worked out pretty well, didn't it, boss?"

Fell puffed up in pride, the Geno-doll looking almost like a war trophy in his arms. "Yes! Ah," he cleared his throat in embarrassment, "hello, Geno. Destroyer."

Error chuckled. "Huh. Ya got us good, didn't you." 

"S-so it's good...?" Geno moved closer to Error, glancing between Fell and the doll. 

Ink pouted at all of them. "Awww, c'mon! Why'm _**I**_ being pranked?? What did I do??"

"Exist." Fell said flatly. 

Error blinked, _huh, harsh._

Heh, he kind of liked this abomination. 

"To answer your question..." Giving the doll an 'accidental' squeeze, Fell cleared his throat and held it out so that it hung from the back of it's hood at Geno's side. Narrowing his eyes, he looked between glitch and doll before nodding to himself and pulling it back into its arm. "It's acceptable."

Red grinned, "That's code for it's perfect."

Fell whipped his head to his brother. "I said **acceptable** , welp!" 

Red was observing his claws. "Uh huh. We heard ya boss." 

Frowning and pouting still, Ink muttered, "What're you even pranking me with?" 

"Thanks," Error almost spoke over Ink, smirking at Fell's obvious attempt to not be obvious. "Glad you like it."

At Ink's question, more bones slammed over the ones already conjured, forming a lid for the bone cage around Ink. "Red has made chocolate a payment." Fell informed the other set of brothers, speaking over Ink's complaint at the cage. "They are ready in the fridge. Will you be staying for awhile?"

At the mention of chocolate, Error and Geno both perked up. "We can spare about a hour, if that's okay?"

"Chocolate?" Error questioned, focusing on what really mattered here.

Sighing heavily, Ink turned his back on them and pulled out his sketchbook, though he smiled a little. _Good... it's about time Error made some new friends that weren't his husbands..._


	35. All's Well!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the readers can forgive the writers for chapter 27!

Thankfully, Dream didn't call, so when they made it home, they still found the house intact and the kids dozing off on the couch with Spright watching over them. Dream glanced up from the book he was reading on the other side of the kids, smiling at their return. "How was it?" 

Error held no less than ten bags of spiced chocolates in his arms. He shrugged. "Alright, I guess," before sneaking them upstairs to hide them from the kids.

Geno darted after him with his arms full of sweets. "Error," he hissed in a whisper, "get back here! No! _No_ , don't you dare run! I'm missing two bags and I know you took them!"

Reaper made his way into the living room just in time to see his first chase the destroyer up the stairs. Shoulder's slumping, he shook his head in defeat. "Hey, hon." he greeted with a pout, walking over to steal a kiss from Ink. "How was the outing?"

"They kept me in a cage for half a hour." Ink whined, snuggling into the god's arms when a hug was offered. Placing in his chin on Reaper's head, he turned his symbols to Dream with a pout. "Fell called it a prank. How were things here?"

Motioning to the children, Dream smiled, "Good, for the most part. Goth needed some minor healing, but-"

Ink's symbols flickered, "Why?"

Reaper chuckled, the sound muffled from his face being buried in Ink's neck. "He and I did some training for his wings. He's not quite at the stage where he's ready for flying, but his wings are proving to be strong. Surprisingly flexible, too. He'll be able to do some neat tricks in the future."

Shivering at the god's breath, he sighed in relief. "But he's okay...? Are you okay?" 

Reaper shrugged, "Yeah. Kid gave me a fright, but all's well that ends well, right?" He nuzzled into Ink's neck slightly, grinning to himself when the artist squirmed and held back an embarrassing noise. 

"D-Dream?" Ink turned his attention to his friend. 

He confirmed, "The kids are okay. Reaper lost a couple feathers due to the stress but everyone's in one piece." A glance to the god, and the guardian amended, "Besides his feathers." 

Spright glanced over. "Death-brah, you tryin' some moves on Inky-brah in front of us?" 

Reaper paused his nuzzling and glanced over. "...no...? I just missed him." 

The Stars, upon sensing the lie, snorted, with an adorable rainbow blush spreading across Ink's face.

Knowing he was caught, Reaper grinned and snuggled closer to the taller skeleton, taking full advantage of Ink’s height to skim his teeth over his sensitive vertebrae.

“Okay,” he amended, “I am. But! I _did_ miss you, Inky.” He purred.

Spright cringed, “Brah, da kids are _right_ there!”

“They’re asleep...” Trilling softly, the god pressed himself close and tilted his head back to grin up at Ink. “Wanna feel how much I missed you?”

Dream coughed with an embarrassed blush and turned his head. He wasn’t sure to the extent Ink’s abilities went, but the artist looked flustered enough that he could definitely probably _feel_ Reaper’s... longing... for his husband.

“W-we’ll be back down in time for dinner!” Ink blurted, taking Reaper’s hand and practically running to the stairs.

The god shot his brother-in-law and the guardian a wink. “Maybe.”

As the doors shut, Spright angled his head to the guardian. Dream was staring ahead with a mix of resignation and horror on his face. "Ya gonna sense da whole thing, aintcha." 

"Yeah..." he slowly nodded. Then he narrowed his sockets with consideration. "But.... That's a lot of positivity...." 

_"HE-HE!"_ Spright rested his head on his fist, grinning at him. "Either yer a voyeur, or yer gonna supercharge yourself wit dem sick sinning vibes." 

Dream twitched, turning his attention to his book. "I was thinking the battery idea." 

"Sure sure, voyeur," his grin widened at Dream as the guardian raised his book between them.

“I don’t even want to know why you’re calling Dream a voyeur.” Was the sentence that announced Geno’s return. At the distant, muffled creak of a bed, he flushed a bit and muttered a soft, “Oh. You...?”

Spright chuckled, “Sunbrah’s sensin’ the sin.”

Expression a little horrified, Geno turned to Dream. “I...I’m sorry.”

 _“WHY THE FUCK IS IT SO NOISY- oh.”_ They heard Error yell from upstairs. 

_“Ruru~”_ Ink’s distant voice purred.

Reaper’s was quick to join. _“Did you want to join? There’s plenty of places you can...fit.”_

When the door slammed shut but Error wasn’t seen coming down the stairs or heard stomping down the hall, Geno’s horror grew. 

“I’m really, really sorry Dream...” _He’s never going to want to come back here!_

Dream mumbled, "I'm glad you all are-" he turned a brighter yellow color and hid further in his book, squeaking, "H-happy...!" 

"M...maybe you should visit Blue...? Or check on him?" Geno suggested. 

Spright grinned, "Dey said _might_ be out by dinner." 

"Y-y-yeah, I'll just-" Dream carefully leaned Goth more on PJ then stood and practically ran out the back door. 

"Heh, he's gonna use dat positivity." _"LO-L!"_ flicked on his sunglasses as he glanced to Geno. "Dude's gonna brim wit it."

Trying to shake his embarrassment, Geno sighed and claimed the seat Dream was using for himself. “This is why we never have guests.” He complained, smiling slightly at the slumbering children. 

“You sure that’s da reason, bro?” At the confused look Geno turned his way, Spright chuckled, “I’m pretty sure da real reason we don’t get guests is day they jus end up stayin’ forever. Can’t have a guest if they never leave.”

Geno snorted, “You’re the only one that never left!”

“Technically?” Spright’s shrugged, grinning, “Yeah, but Error-brah and Inky-bro kinda did the same thing? Only dey kept visitin’ as guest until you grandma Mulan-ed them.”

“...Until I what?”

Spright wider, “Ya know? ‘Do you wanna stay for dinner?’ And then the grandma shouts, ‘Do you wanna stay forever?’ You’re the grandma in this situation, bro.”

Pouting, Geno looked away. "I'm not the grandma...." 

"Who asked-? Ah... heh, guess my bros are jus two grandmas, huh?" Spright snickered. "I say? Matter a'time before ya make it official." 

"S-stop that! Dream probably doesn't even want to stay here! He probably just... thinks it's his job... or something..." 

_"RLY-BRO"_ Spright glanced over his glasses to frown at him. "Ask him, den. In da meantime?" He leaned back against the couch and sighed, "I'm gonna nap before din-din."

———

Once dinner came around, the whole family gathered at the table. For some reason, it seemed awkward between the close air of Ink and Dream, especially when the former had bits of Error's and Reaper's clothes on and wouldn't look Dream in the eyes.

Spright stared at Geno as if to say, _Do you see what I mean?? Ask him!!!_

Poor Respite seemed to be the only one out of the loop with the kids, but he was aware of the awkward tension settling over the table.

When Geno flushed and pointedly looked away from Spright's stare, the color skeleton frowned. Unseen behind his shades, his sockets narrowed. _"THAT'S-IT"_ his glasses briefly said, the text slightly smushed together. Before anyone could take note of it; however, the words returned to their normal phrase just as a smile settled on his face.

"Eyyy, yo, Sunbrah?"

Looking up from his plate, Dream blinked. "Yes?"

Noticing just how _innocent_ his youngest brother's smile looked, Error stiffened, eyes narrowed. "What are you-"

"Would you like to stay for dinner?"

Everyone blinked in confusion. Hesitantly, Dream motioned to his plate. "Um, I...I a-"

Face flaming, Geno cut him off by blurting, "Would you like to stay forever?"

Dream stared between then, a blush forming. "Uuh..... i-if you want me to...?!?!"

Geno withheld an embarrassed whine. _Reaper, please, do your fucking job and end me now!_

Unfortunately, Reaper was a terrible combination of a loving husband, a slacker, and stunned. Like the rest of the table, aside from Spright, that is, the god was too busy staring at Geno in surprise to end his suffering. 

Realizing he was on his own here, the glitch hid his face and stuttered through a reply. "I...I mean, well, I..." was going to kill his brother, "...I wouldn't mind." he finally admitted. When the stunned silence continued stretching, he hurried to fill it with mortifying babbling. "O-of course t-that's only if you want to! I, uh, I might just be making a l-lot of assumptions."

"Assumptions...?" Dream asked, a little unsure of how he felt about the sudden...invitation?

"...You seem to like it here?" Geno murmured, the statement unintentionally coming off as more of a question. Slowly, he lowered his hands from his face to see the guardian's expression. "And, w-well, the kids like you..."

"Dunkle Dweamy?" Goth asked, certain this time that it was okay.

Geno's blush brightened, the glow matched by the golden hue on Dream's face. "N-no, Gothy! Well, uh." eye begging for help, he glanced around the table. Dumb stares was all he was met with. "...M-maybe...? I...um, I don't think I'm really there, but I can..." clearing his throat, Geno continued, "...I c-can see it. One day, maybe. Error seems to like you-"

"I do _not!"_

"-and Reaps really only flirt-teases with people he likes, so something might be there? O-or, it has the potential to be? It's only been a few days I know, but..." Dream fit. In a way that Geno couldn't explain, he just...he fit. At the dinner table, in the living room with the children when they came home... Geno could see 'just a few days' becoming forever. He could see Dream becoming part of their forever, if was open to the idea of dating the four of them. "I k-know there's already that thing between you and Ink-"

Ink choked, "Dream and I don't have a thing!"

Dream smiled to hide his plummeting heart. "H-he's right, Geno."

Geno frowned, confused. Before he could argue the obvious, Error cut in with a sigh, "Ink, you idiot..." Thinking back to his conversation with Dream, he sighed again. He... he was still nervous about the change, about having to incorporate Dream into things when Nightmare was still causing issues, but... well, the last few days hadn't been terrible. Despite his fears, Dream being around hadn't ruined his stability. If anything, his presence was comforting. With that in mind, he turned to his first. "Dream likes you and you like him. You're just too much of a fucking _dumbass_ to real-"

Dream shot up from his chair. "I...I have to go-"

Gently, Reaper leaned across the table and caught his hand. "Actually," he said softly, "I think you should stay. This isn't a conversation I expected now, but it's one we should probably have."

Expected _now_ , but not never.

Smiling apologetically at the guardian-this was kind of Spright's fault, after all-the colorful skeleton stood and motioned to Respite to grab their plates. "C'mon, kiddos. Let's watch a movie while we eat!"

Cheering at the rare opportunity, the children quickly abandoned their seats and ran off, followed by their uncles. Soon enough, the four husbands and Dream were left alone.

Ink's face was full of both surprise and color. "I...I don't-!"

Closing his eyes in regret, Dream sat back down. "...I do..." he said softly.

Ink looked even more surprised, though uncertainty flickered in his mind too. "Dream...?" 

The guardian glanced at the other three husbands, unable to really meet Ink's gaze. Error was frowning at the both of them, likely thinking _frikken dumbass_ over and over. 

Geno murmured, "S-so why don't we talk about this for a bit...?"


	36. Boyfriend Material

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a serious conversation takes place.

Seeing that no one else was rushing to begin, Reaper sighed, "Inky, babe, it's kind of obvious there's _something_ between you two. I thought we just weren't talking about it, not yet at least, but I didn't think you didn't know."

Dream's embarrassment grew into mortification. Dropping his eyes to the table, he crossed his hands on his lap and dug his fingers into his leggings to ground himself to something. _It's **obvious**...?_ He knew that his feelings must have been clear enough for Error to call him out as he did, but for _everyone else_ to notice too...? 

With a great deal of horror, Dream realized that his eyes were starting to burn. Quickly, he lowered his head and blinked his sockets to get rid of the burning itch. He was an adult, damnit. He wasn't going to cry over a little embarrassment. 

"Dream...?" Geno called out softly, eye worried as he noticed the way the golden Star was trying to hide. "I...I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"No," Error interrupted, "you were right to bring this up. I...I didn't want this to happen," he admitted, "not right now, at least, but this isn't something that's going to go away. Dream's had a thing for Ink for _years-"_

A high, embarrassed whine escaped Dream. Horrified, he slapped his hands over his face, desperately trying to ignore the heavy weight of Ink's stare. "E-Error, please-"

"Tell me I'm wrong." The destroyer demanded. At Dream's clear distress, he sighed. Voice softening, he murmured, "I'm not an idiot, Dream. I didn't like it at first, but having shitty eyes didn't make me blind to the way you look at him. I don't need glasses to see that you give Ink the same look Reaper gives my brother, or that I know I give the dumbass. Hell, it's so obvious that I can see the affection even with my fucked up sight. And you know what? _I can see that Ink gives you the same fucking look."_

"I...I do...?" Ink murmured.

Geno shared a look with Reaper. "Hon," he said softly, "you don't look at just anyone like you look at Dream. I...like Reaps said, I thought we weren't talking about it just yet, but I _did_ think there was going to be a talk eventually. That'd you admit to wanting to be with Dream or, um," he blushed, "that'd you suggest trying this as a group."

"I'm not opposed." Reaper said, catching Dream's eye and sending him a smile. "You've handled our madness for what? Four, five days? Most people take off running after just a few seconds of us being out together. Besides, you're cute. Small, like Geno but spunky like Error."

"You seem happy here." Geno mumbled, shy. "Maybe I misread the reason? But you look happy and relaxed when you're around. I caught you coming back from checking on, um, work things once." he admitted, "I can't say I know how much stress your work puts you under, but you came in and it just...melted away the _instant_ you stepped in. Maybe that's not as remarkable as I thought it was, but the kids were screeching while they played, Error was shouting at Reaper...things were far from a relaxing environment, but it seemed to relax you anyways. And, well," Clearing his throat, Geno looked away, "...Ditto on what Reaps said..."

Although there were no real assigned 'turns' to the conversation, Error still felt like there was an unspoken expectation that he start speaking. Looking around the table, he sighed before meeting Dream's slowly widening stare, "...You'd fit."

"Error..." Ink murmured, surprised.

"Idiots don't get to talk until someone says so." Error grumbled. Keeping his eyes on Dream's, he continued, "Look, you're..." A little flustered, he tried to find the right words. Eventually, he settled for just blurting everything out. "I didn't like you, at first. When all this shit started happening and your crush seemed to be getting worse, I _really_ didn't like you, but you... You like him," he nodded to Ink, "and you'd be good for the idiot. If... if it's something you're interested in trying, then I think you should know that you'd be good for _us_ ," he motioned to himself and his other two husbands, "too. If...if you want to try."

"I...I'm..." Dream stuttered, stunned.

"Inky?" Reaper called out, "Do you have something you want to say?"

Ink fiddled with his scarf. "I..."

At the torn expression on his face, Error frowned. "This is why you're an idiot. You're a fucking empath, Ink. Instead of looking at all of our emotions, why don't you look at yourself? We all know where we stand on this, but what are _your_ feelings on everything?" 

"Even if you never acknowledged them, they're still there, hon." Geno added.

Ink's grip tightened on his scarf, staring into his lap. His face was burning brightly as he shuffled through his own emotions. 

_There..._

Like his husbands were saying, there was a... _something_. A long-buried love for the guardian he'd spent most of his time with initially. It had _definitely_ seen better days, but as Ink pulled that bundle of emotions, he _knew_ Geno was right.

He never acknowledged them. Because to do so without a SOUL was to potentially lie for the rest of their lives. Because to do so _with_ a SOUL put everyone at risk-! but... but he let himself feel those shades of pinks for his first husband. For his next two husbands. For his kids. For his brother-in-laws that lived with them and understood them. 

_For Dream..._

But... he had also sensed Error's unease with Dream there. He had convinced himself that he and Dream were best friends. Close friends, that don't mind literally leaning against each other for support or to take a nap. He had tried to convince himself that that's just what happened when two friends were best friends for such a long time. And maybe that was true regardless of any other developed feelings. Ink was always comfortable around Dream. But he didn't feel exactly the same about cuddling with Blue... 

Dream could sense the turmoil in Ink. And the growing love and adoration that was so similar to his husbands but, _directed at the guardian himself_. 

But all Ink could sense from Dream was his shield. "I... I just-" 

Error reached out and grabbed his hand quickly. "No, don't run Ink." 

He froze, trying to ignore the understanding flowing from his first husband. "U-um..." Ink's flashing symbols glanced briefly to each of his husbands before settling on Dream. "Y-yeah... I was trying t-to ignore it f-for probably a long time..."

Dream tried to maintain their eye contact, but his flustered state got the best of him and he _had_ to look away. There were so many reasons why he kept his feelings to himself. More reasons than they had time to get into, but... "I didn't want to interfere." he admitted. "First, with Error, then with Reaper and Geno... You seemed happy, Ink. I didn't want to ruin that. Besides, you were _married."_

"Oh stars," Error groaned, "you're _both_ idiots. Look," he snapped at Dream, "I can't change how I felt about this idea in the past, but you're talking about a married man...who is married to _three fucking people_. Maybe it would have been different when it was just Ink and I, but..."

Geno looked between the Stars with a slight smile. "Reaps has always been faithful to me, Dream. The same goes for me and for Error and Ink concerning each other. When Reaper and Ink realized there was something there though... Well, he talked about it. Tried it out and now look at us! We're happy together. Married, _as a group_. If you want to be with Ink and he wants to be with you, then we can discuss that now."

"Or," Reaper added, "if you think you'd be interested in trying for the whole set, then we could discuss _that_ now instead. It's up to you though, guardian."

"T-trying for the whole set..?" Dream let out a nervous giggle, before he was able to school himself and stare at his lap. He... 

Well, he _really_ thought about it.

He was _definitely_ happier here. It was the whole thing. The company, the innocent kids, the home-cooked meals. Admittedly, it was also being closer to Ink, even if the artist forgot- well, it wouldn't matter if the four of them were willing to let Dream stay, potentially forever...? He wasn't sure exactly how he'd be able to contribute to their household, but maybe.... 

He glanced into each of their feelings. Reaper seemed genuine in his interest of the guardian. Geno seemed more than willing to give a relationship with him a try. Error, though still a little dodgy with the whole thing with Nightmare going on, seemed willing to give Dream a chance and Ink... 

_Wow those are some intense feelings...._

Not as intense as the ones for Error, but they were on the same league as the rest of his family.

 _He already considers me family, doesn't he...?_ Dream looked to Ink, a little startled to see Ink's "blank" gaze on him. _Heh, he's trying to keep his expression blank but he's nervous_. Dream glanced to the other three. "Um.. I... wouldn't be opposed to.... t-to-" 

"Trying the whole set?" Reaper winked. "Consider us all your boyfriends?" 

"Y-yeah..." was his blush worse? Probably! "I-If you all are...?"

Error groaned, "You're supposed to be the _smart_ one between you and Ink. Yes, idiot, we're all fine with it."

Dream giggled, the sound high and airy and so, so embarrassing. "O-oh, okay. So, um, I...I guess that's it?"

Grinning, Reaper balanced his chin on his palm and fluttered his sockets at Dream. "We're allll yours now, Sunstar. Well, yours and each others."

"I'm sorry in advance." Geno sighed, though there was a smile on his face. "Reaps is clingy, Error always looks like he wants to fight when he actually wants to cuddle, Ink is, well, Ink, and-"

Ink blurted, "Geno wears sexy panties!"

"...Ink is going to be _dead."_ Geno growled, his blush at odds with the magic flaring in his socket.

Ink squeaked, "NOPE." He devoured the rest of his dinner in two bites then swiped a portal underneath him, wiggling his fingers as Geno yelled, "NO PORTALS IN THE HOUSE!" and ran around the table to- 

Well, the artist was gone. 

A quick check, and Dream sensed him upstairs in his and Error's room. Speaking of, the second shook his head and continued his dinner. "So... two husbands, a," he cringed, _"husbrah_ , and a boyfriend? Not how I expected this day to end." 

_Four boyfriends in one whole swoop?_ Dream was.... he was...! 

_Absolutely **giddy.**_

He didn't think he'd ever have _one_ boyfriend, let alone _four_. 

Error waved his hand, "Don't worry about Idiot #1, he's probably just embarrassed that he didn't realize it sooner." He continued eating, ignoring Geno racing up the stairs to probably fight Ink. 

Reaper continued his food too, though excitement and curiosity lingered in his expression.

"So, how exactly _do_ you want to do this?" He asked, curiously. Smiling around a forkful of cold dinner, he tilted his head and suggested, "A huge game of 20 twenty questions to get to know you? A date? What do you prefer when it comes to stuff like this?"

Dream shifted in his seat. "Oh, um..." Smiling helplessly, he poked at his food and admitted, "I'm not sure. I...I've never really done anything...serious."

"Oh? Haven't had many long relationships?" Reaper questioned, though he didn't sound all that surprised. Seeing how busy Ink could get, he understood that Dream's job probably didn't make dating easy. Hell, his own job was demanding enough that slacking off was pretty much the only reason why _he_ had time to be married. 

Only, Dream's smile turned sheepish. "I...haven't really dated. At all." he confessed.

Error choked on a mouthful of food.

Dream sent him a concerned look, "Are you-?" 

"Yep!! Fine! I just assumed that you and-" 

"N-No! No, Ink and I never...! U-um..." Dream half shrugged and glanced between the two remaining husbands, seeing the surprise reflected on each of their expressions, "Wh-what...?" 

Reaper's smile softened, "How about one of us takes you out on a date tomorrow? And we can do a 20 questions thing then? You and Ink probably know everything about the other, so what about a date with Error or Geno or I?"

Dream blinked in surprise. "Just one of you?" Wasn't he supposed to be dating all four...?

Reaper chuckled at his confusion, the sound soft and fond rather than cruel. "Something like this... it's a lot, Sunstar. _We're_ a lot to handle. Let us start small with you, okay? Get to know us individually before seeing how we work as a group."

Error nodded in agreement. "Geno is a hermit. Getting him out of the house? Yeah, that's not easy, especially after he's already gone out today." Noticing the worry in Dream's eyes, he shook his head, guessing at what he was worried about. "It's not a _him_ thing. It's a Geno thing."

Tension Dream didn't realize was building faded. His brother's actions were traumatic, he knew. He was glad to see that they weren't responsible for the glitch's dislike of leaving the house. "That's a relief."

Deciding to get them back on track, Reaper drew Dream's attention back to him by saying, "So, who is it gonna be? Me, or Ruru?"

"O-oh, um...!" Glancing between them with a blush, Dream smiled at Reaper hesitantly. "Y-you and I haven't gotten to talk much, so...you? If that's okay?"

"Of course that's okay," Reaper smiled back. 

Error had to hold back a snicker. "Afraid of me?" 

"N-no!" _Maybe a little....?_ "Not at all-!" 

"Ru," Reaper glanced at him. "Try not to change that?" 

Sighing, Error muttered, "I guess...." but the smile he held was one of amusement. 

Dream looked between them, "Wow... this almost doesn't feel real...." 

Reaper finished the last bite of his food, pouting slightly before looking to Dream, "What, the dating thing?" At Dream's nod, Reaper grinned, "Well, if you ever decide it won't work for you, we'll understand." 

"...thank you..." the guardian's expression was soft as he savored the rest of his food. 

_I wonder if they understand what I'm thanking them for_... he couldn't help but think.

Error snorted and nodded his head towards the living room. "Thank Spright. I don't know what the hell that whole thing between him and Geno was, but I'm pretty sure it's his fault this talk even happened."

Dream smiled, "Heh, I...I guess I'll have to do that, then."

"I'm done, so I'm going to start on cleaning." Error announced, pushing away from his seat and gathering the dishes that needed to be wrapped up. "I assume you two want to plan out your date?"

Reaper nodded with a grin. "Yeah, that's probably best. You fine with that, Dream?"

"Y-yes!"

"Cool, just don't get in my way while I clean."

Nodding, the two helped push the dishes closer to Error before settling in their seats to discuss. A few shouts and muffled thumps from upstairs interrupted them every now and then but, for the most part, they fell into easy discussion about tomorrow's date.

For the first time since his arrival, Dream found himself completely at ease.

 _Even my brother couldn't ruin **this** good mood_, he decided, smiling to himself as he listened to Reaper suggest multiple coffee shops.

———

After the kids were put to bed, Ink visited Dream, somehow unsurprised to find him reading one of Geno's books by the newly fixed bookshelf. "Dream...?" Ink whispered.

The guardian looked up, a bit surprised and, admittedly, not entirely sure if he could handle a conversation with Ink quite yet. "Yeah...?" 

The artist stepped closer, fidgeting with his scarf still, but his gaze was searching Dream's. He kept his emotions guarded, though they weren't fully behind a shield, what with his lack of practice with it. _He's nervous?_ Well, watching his twitchy movements, and quivering eye lights, Dream _knew_ he was nervous, but didn't know why. "What's the matter, Ink?" 

"Are.... are you _really_ okay dating all of us? Besides the whole 'we're a handful' thing, I..." he shut his sockets and sighed. "I feel like I should apologize for..." _ignoring your feelings? Ignoring my own? Trying to force the two of us to stay friends? **All** of it?_

Dream closed his book gently, watching Ink struggle with what he wanted to apologize for, before cutting in, "Inkblot, you don't have anything to apologize for." 

"I somehow doubt that..." Ink pursed his brows together. "How long have we been friends? How long has...?" he motioned vaguely between the two of them. 

The guardian sat back, giving it some serious thought. His silence made the artist twitch more, until, quietly, he said, "You were there just moments after Nightmare ate the apple and started ripping apart our world. I took responsibility, and our companionship wasn't meant to last as long as it did, but..." Dream smiled at him, though Ink thought he saw something sad in his friend's- in his _boyfriend's_ eyes. "Don't worry about the feelings between us. It doesn't really matter _when_ they started, now that we'll be able to figure out what exactly they are."

"...I'm not good at this, Dream." Ink whispered, hands twisted in his scarf. "Honestly, I don't even know how I got _Error_ to like me, let alone marry me. Reaper? Geno? _You?_ That... I never would have imagined any of this could be possible. I... I _know_ you say there's nothing to apologize for, but I don't want to go into this without saying sorry. If I hurt you and you don't want to talk about it now, then okay. Just..." 

"Ink..."

Stepping closer, Ink dropped his scarf in favor of taking Dream's hands in his own. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I probably can't remember everything I should be sorry for, and I'm sorry for...for _this_ ," he squeezed Dream's hands, "having to happen so late simply because I ignored that there was something there."

Like bright, twinkling stars falling from the sky, Dream's tears glittered. "Inkblot, you idiot. I said you didn't have to apologize."

"Yeah," Ink whispered, moving in closer without being really aware of the action, "but what you said isn't what you needed, was it?"

The guardian ducked his head to wipe his growing tears, but Ink was already there. 

_His... his hands are shaking..._ Dream noted distantly, looking back up to him. "Yeah-" he blinked, seeing tears reflected in Ink's own eyes. "I-Ink..." 

He chuckled a little, wiping his own tears and shaking his head. "S-sorry... um..." he squeezed Dream's hands again. "So... Reaps **really** likes his coffee. He might go on an entire rant with you about it. A-and, Error sometimes just needs to wear his glasses. And Geno would be _more_ than happy to teach you to cook- 

"Ink," Dream interrupted, smiling more naturally, "Don't worry about us okay?" 

"I... yeah..." He stared down at their hands, seemingly lost in thought. He nodded slowly, "Yeah... I think you'll be fine..." _I hope you will be..._

Dream's smile slanted into a slight smirk. "I would be more worried about Reaper, Inkblot." Earning the confused look he was hoping for, Dream let his smirk widen. "Apparently, he's interested in seeing how, um, _spunky_ I can be, so he suggested that neither of us drink coffee until after we get to the cafe. So, well, I'm going into the date without an ounce of caffeine in my system tomorrow _morning."_

Slowly, horror dawned on Ink's face. He stared at his longest friend and all he could think of was... 

_One of them's gonna kill the other..._

_Or one of them's gonna be pregnant._

He forced a smile, "Dreamboat, I.... I _strongly_ urge you to sneak a shot of energy drink or _something_ before the date." 

Dream shrugged. "How bad can it be?" 

Ink stared. "I have quite a few sketchbooks. Want me to _show_ you?" 

"Now you've caught my interest!" 

Both Stars yelped and glanced at the stairs. Reaper grinned at them. "How come neither of you sensed me? Inky, are you trying to hijack my date?" 

"What? No! ...what? ....no!" 

"Awww~! How _rude_ of you~!" 

A brilliant rainbow blush flooded the artist's face, and Dream knew the reasons weren't PG.

Drifting over, Reaper crossed his arms and set them on Ink's head, his feet kicked out behind him as he lounged in midair. "Were you planning on showing him your sketchbooks, or your _sketchbooks?"_ Cushioning his chin on his crossed arms, he winked at Dream. "There's a very big difference there, Sunstar."

A golden hue tinted Dream's cheek at the wink. "O-oh, is there?"

Humming an affirmative, the god grinned, "Inky is _really_ good at getting the little details down _perfectly_. He memory isn't always the best, but he got the pattern of the lace from Geno's pa-"

Ink, sensing their smallest husband heading down, quickly cut in. "Why, yes! I _do_ think you should break out your actual clothing for the date! Your robes are cute, hon, but they creep bystanders out."

Just as he finished speaking, Geno began walking down the stairs. At the sight of Ink and Dream hovering close with Reaper in midair, he blinked. "Oh, are you guys busy? I was going to read a bit before bed, but I can take my book and go, if you want to be alone?"

 _Thank the stars for Ink_ , Reaper thought, _he probably just saved my life._

"No we were just talking about t-tomorrow!" Dream nodded firmly. 

Reaper grinned up at his first. "Do you think I should wear a suit? Or is that too formal for a first date to a coffee shop?" 

Ink quietly let out a sigh, trying to let his blush fade as soon as possible. 

Shaking his head, Geno said, "Something more casual. You know you only wear suits for special occasions!" 

The god sent Dream a wink, "Speaking of, when's your birthday?" 

"Reaper!" 

"Okay, okay! I'll behave!" He waved his hands in the air.

The artist and the guardian shared a look, a _knowledge_ passing between them. _Sure, Reaper would try to behave, but he probably wouldn't succeed._

"Oh, have you told Blue yet, Dream? Ink?" 

They both shook their heads, with Dream murmuring, "I'm not entirely sure how to... tell him...?"

Ink's smile was the definition of trouble. "We could get him one of those cakes? You know, the one's where they ask you if you want to write something on it? 'My husbands and I are dating Dream, signed Ink'?"

"No." Dream said firmly, a haunted look in his eyes. "Stretch already hates you, Ink. If give his brother sugar, let alone an entire cake, he'll go back to attacking you on sight."

Geno frowned, "He'll go _back_ to doing that?"

"...He mean well," Dream tried to defend, "really, he does. It's just... Stretch is protective. _Too_ protective, if you ask anyone but him. After Error kidnapped his brother, his protectiveness skyrocketed and he tried to shut down any attempts at contacting Blue. With Ink though, he was especially...forceful."

At the frowns both his husbands were wearing, Ink waved his hand, as if trying to brush off their concern. "Dating the guy who kidnapped your brother? Bad. Marrying that guy and being the one to suggest training that brother to be a Star? Worse. We're fine now, though! Mostly."

"...Okay, so the cake idea is out." Grabbing a book from his shelf, Geno settled down on an open seat and flipped it open to a bookmarked page. Even as he began to read; however, he continued speaking. "Maybe just be upfront? If he's your friend, he shouldn't react badly, right?"

Ink and Dream blinked, looking to each other. 

Reaper stared at them. "...right...?" 

"Honestly...?" Ink began. 

"We... don't know...?" Dream finished, looking to them. "I mean, Blue was a little hesitant to continue talking to Ink, especially after what happened with him and Error, and with whatever Stretch has been telling him. And I haven't ever really dated...? And there's-" Dream backtracked, "I tend to be a bit of a workaholic, and Blue thrives off of and understands that. He's got a strong work ethic and... well, I'm kinda worried he's going to fall into the same pit of working until he runs himself ragged-" 

"Like you and Ink already do?" Reaper tilted his head. 

Ink stared at him, "I do _not-"_

"Yeah you do," chorused Dream, Geno, Reaper, and Error. Everyone looked up when the destroyer stepped down the stairs with an exhausted sag in his shoulders. "Ink, you _said_ a couple minutes," he complained.

Softening at the cute sight of a clearly sleepy Error, Ink gently nudged Reaper's arms off of his head and made his way to the destroyer. "Sorry, hon." he cooed, arms encircling Error's waist. "I got distracted."

Pressing his face into Ink's chest, Error grumbled, "Flirt with the new boyfriend _later_. Sleep now."

"Sleep or-"

"If you suggest sex when I'm tired _after_ you and Reaper already fucked, then I'll kill you and sleep with Dream instead."

Ink murmured, "Oh so you'll _sleep_ with new boyfriend, instead?" he sent a wink to Dream, "Hear that? Ruru wants you to **sleep** with him!" 

Error groaned, "Fucking idiot... Dream, get out now while you still have a chance," though his words were harsh and he seemed _done_ , Dream could tell there wasn't any weight to the words. 

Laughing lowly, as to not wake the kids, Ink lifted Error up so he was standing on the artist's feet. They still hugged each other and Ink started wobbling them back to their room, cooing cute little nothings to the former destroyer. Heh, Error looked to be falling asleep right there in his arms... 

The god chuckled then glanced between Dream and Geno. "Do you two want to read together before sleeping?"

"Hmm, if Dream plans to keep reading, then sure. Either way, I'm going to read for at least a few more minutes..." Geno said, eye firmly on his book.

Smirking, the god waited until a look of deep concentration slid on the glitch's face before turning to Dream. "A few minutes, he says, but look." Turning back to Geno, he called, "Ge? Gen? Honey?"

The glitch offered a absentminded, questioning hum.

"Ink came inside of me."

Dream choked, but Geno merely hummed again in response.

"Twice."

"Hmmm..."

"Then, I came inside _him."_

"Uh-huh...?"

Face akin to glowing, golden sun, Dream squeaked out, "H-he gets really invested in his books, doesn't he?"

"Yeah," Reaper chuckled, "so if you plan to read, that's fine. Just don't wait up for him to finish if you start getting tired, okay? Gen _might_ put the book down if he gets sleepy, but he might also push through until he finishes the entire thing."

Dream glanced between them uncertainly. "D-did-? N-no never mind." He opened his own book, murmuring, "Thanks Reaper... I'll see you tomorrow for the d-date..." 

"Remember, no coffee _until_ the date!" 

Cringing, Dream nodded, "Right..." 

For a moment, the god stared down at Dream. "Dream?" 

The guardian looked up, and the god grinned. "Just curious," he waved his fingers and floated up the stairs. "Nighty night~!" 

"G-goodnight..." he mumbled from behind his book. 

Geno turned the page, "Mmhmm...?"

Cracking a small smile, Dream got himself comfortable and continued to read. _This has been a good day. Weird and surprising, but good._


	37. Geno's Time Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a break is deserved~!

It wasn't unusual for Geno to wake up surrounded by warmth. Reaper wasn't just a cuddler, he was _the_ cuddler of the house. Ink, Error, Geno, the kids... it didn't matter who he was cuddling as long as he got to cuddle someone when the urge to do so appeared. That being said, when asleep, the god's cuddling was at it's worse, so waking up, warm, in the arms of his first with Reaper curled around him really, really wasn't rare.

When Geno's sleepy socket blinked open; however, he found himself looking into the face of not Reaper, but _Dream_.

"W-what?!" he squeaked, instinctively trying to push himself away. _Oh my stars, did we-_

"Shhh..." Dream grumbled, arms tightening around Geno and a single socket opening to glare at him with a tired yet sharp golden eye. "M'sleeping. Go back to being a teddy bear."

"D-Dream, why are we-"

Socket closing, Dream let his forehead press against Geno's as he tiredly mumbled, "You looked cold. Didn't wanna move to get a blanket though, so _I'm_ your blanket. Now shhhhhh," he hushed, "sleep, kay? Kay."

"...Dream...?" 

"..." 

"D-Dream...?" 

The guardian sighed. "We're on the couch, full clothes, nothing happened, _please let me sleep some more..."_

Geno relaxed slightly, but continued to stare at him. Well, observe. 

Up close, it almost looked like Dream had silvery freckles across his cheeks. _That.... that would explain why his blush looked like it glittered..._ He was still wearing his pants and an undershirt- no wait, that's a tank top. His over-shirt was hung over the back of the couch, and his cape draped over the both of them like a blanket. Geno was able to see Dream's bare bones and... 

_Stars..._

Across the bones Geno could make out, there were slashing scars that looked like they were healed too rapidly or out of desperation. But that wasn't what caught Geno's eye. 

Expanding from the numerous scars were colorful tattoos that appeared to serve as a distraction from the scars that healed wrong. Geno let out a soft gasp, reaching to touch one that looked like a- 

Dream flinched back, staring at him. "Please don't..." he whispered.

Geno startled. _H-how long was he...?_ An embarrassed blush spread across his face. "Um..." 

Rubbing his eyes, the guardian slowly pulled his arms away from Geno and sat up. Reaching behind them, he pulled his over-shirt back on. Too easily, the scars and tattoos were hidden beneath the thicker cloth, though the cape was still draped over Geno's shoulders.

"Mmm...want coffee..." Dream mumbled, staring blankly in the direction of the kitchen. Oh, but he wasn't supposed to have any yet... "Fuck," he grumbled, "why did I make that deal?"

For a moment, Geno thought he was struck by lightning with the way everything just kind of _tingled. I... wasn't expecting him to swear_. He definitely wasn't expecting to-

Sharp, golden eyes bore into his own. Despite his clear exhaustion, Dream looked surprisingly aware, and a small smirk was seated proudly on his face, in place of the guardian's usually sweet smile. At the sight of it, Geno's face flushed a very bright, very notable red.

"Like what you see?" Dream murmured, voice gruff from sleep.

The phrase was a familiar one. Ink, Reaper... both his husbands had a fondness for it. Geno was used to _them_ saying it though. Dream? Stars, he never would have expected the innocent looking guardian to say it. Hell, before last night, he didn't think he'd be dating him this soo- Dream's arms were around him.

"I...I..." Geno stuttered, eye wide.

Pulling him onto his lap, Dream closed his eyes and pressed their cheeks together, too close to Geno's height that he couldn't rest his chin on the glitch's head like he wanted to. "Cute." he murmured, nuzzling him and yawning slightly. "You look good in yellow. I wonder," another yawn broke up his words, "I wonder if...if you're wearing...yellow..." Before he could finished, Dream drifted off, arms a locked cage around Geno's waist.

_I-if I'm wearing yellow **what**?!_

Somehow, Geno was sure he knew the answer.

Reaper wandered down the stairs moments later. He did a double-take on the two embracing on the couch. "Oh? Well that.... huh that was a little fast. I was _wondering_ why you weren’t coming to bed. " 

"I-idiot!" Geno hissed, "I'm not-! _We_ didn't-!" 

"Is he asleep?" Reaper asked loudly, drifting closer. 

"U-until you wake him up!" 

Dream frowned slightly in his light slumber, pulling Geno somehow closer to himself so he could rest his chin on the other's shoulder. Gently, the glitch nudged him. "D-Dream? Your date?" 

Without opening his eyes, he mumbled, "What did I date?" 

"Your _coffee_ date?" Reaper let the magic word roll over his tongue in a purr. "With me?" 

Slowly, he opened his eyes. "Coffee...?" 

Reaper cooed, struggling to hide his laughter. "Yep! I'm going to buy you some coffee if you agree to come with me." 

He squinted at the god before huffing. "Sounds acceptable." He set Geno to the side, letting the slight smirk drop onto his face as he looked to the smaller skeleton. "You make a really nice _cuddle buddy,"_ he winked before he stood and grabbed his cape. 

Reaper _had_ to cover his grin with a hand, though tears were forming in his eyes. _Stars dammit I wish I got pictures of this..!_

In that moment, Geno was almost positive that there was a higher force that had it out for him. Why? Because Error made his way down the stairs.

With _Ink_.

At first, the tall artist looked like he was unaware of the feelings surrounding the glitch. Then, he blinked and his sleepy smile shifted into a smirk _just_ as he looked to Geno. "Oh, those are some _very_ pretty colors, hon. Someone give you a _special_ good morning?”

"I hate _all_ of you!" Geno cried. 

"That's not what your colors/emotions are saying~!" Ink and Dream harmonized. 

Error shuddered. "Yikes, there's _two_ of them." At Ink's shifting eye lights, the former destroyer snapped, "Dammit, _not before breakfast, you horny bastard!_ Why do I have to keep telling you this!?" 

"But _Ruuuu!!!_ My memory is just... _horrible!"_ Ink bat his sockets at his first. 

Chuckling as Error and Ink continued their banter, Reaper walked over to Geno and gave him a kiss. "Call us if you need anything, okay love?" 

"Yeah..." he pouted up at Reaper. "Be safe." 

"Of course!" the god made his way over to Dream and offered his hand. "Shall we?" 

Ink suddenly froze and looked over, "WAIT, REAPS-!" 

But Dream was already holding his hand, fingers lanced between the god’s longer ones. The guardian glanced over at Ink, completely unaware. "What?" 

The four husbands all seemed to be wide awake in that moment, staring at Dream's hand clasped in Reaper's. "D-Dream?" When the guardian gave him a look, Reaper slowly let himself relax. "Wow... heh, I was so used to being able to touch people here that I forgot..." 

"What? You forgot-?" Dream glanced at everyone, frowning. "Alright, what the hell did I miss?"

"...Nothing!" Ink said with a sunny smile. _He'll kill us all if he finds out we almost let him die._

Sockets narrowed, Dream argued, "Ink, I'm not like you."

The symbols within Ink's eyes reflected his confusion as mismatched question marks. "Not like me...?" 

"Yeah," Dream said flatly, "I'm not an idiot. Our abilities may not be entirely the same, but I can still feel all of your panic. Clearly, I'm missing the reason for it, so tell me: What just happened?" 

Error chuckled, once again pleasantly surprised by the fire Dream showcased without caffeine in his system. "Reaps is literal Death, guardian. Usually, his touch kills. Everything." 

"...I could have killed you." Reaper admitted, shoulders slumped with shame. "Honestly, I... I should have been more careful. I'm sorry, Dream." 

Instead of reassuring the god or any of the others, Dream merely stared at them all with an expression of disbelief. "You... you're all idiots, aren't you? Oh stars, I agreed to date a group of an idiots. A pack? Stars help me." 

"Hey!" The four complained. 

Dream's voice was as bland as his expression. "Guys, where was this fear for my life when Reaper grabbed my hand yesterday?" 

Simultaneously, the small group of husbands froze. 

"...Oh stars," Geno whispered, horrified, "we are all idiots, aren't we?" But they were idiots who at least got to enjoy a perfectly safe, living boyfriend, so... yay? 

After some more judgement on Dream's part and embarrassed amusement on the husbands' side, the exasperated guardian left with Reaper for their date; a small, fond smile on his face as the god eagerly tucked him under an arm. Smiling themselves, the other three wished them goodbye and a good date, before locking the door behind the duo and turning to each other with sheepish grins. 

"...At least he think's we're endearing?" Ink chuckled. 

Stomach growling, Error offered a bland cheer before making his way to the kitchen for a light snack. "Are we feeding the kids breakfast, or are we getting them food while we're out?" He asked, the question intention to Ink.

A little cold without his, Geno blushed, _cuddle buddy_ , the glitch stood and made his way to Ink to leech his warmth. "Do you want me to go and get them ready for you two?"

Ink rubbed Geno's arms once they came around his middle. A glance to Error, and the artist murmured, "Let's let them sleep in a bit, then we can grab food for them when we're out? Call it a treat!" He smiled over his shoulder at Geno, though it wavered when he started to recall everyone's schedules. "Ge, are you sure you don't want to come with us? It... I don't really like the idea of you being by yourself here..." 

Error glanced over, frown deepening. "Ink's right, you should come with us." 

Geno murmured, "C'mon, when's the last time any of us got some alone time?" he smiled at them. "I'll be fine. House-husband, remember? You're going to have to **drag** me out this house. Besides, I'll probably just nap most the day away anyways." 

"Then be mad that we didn't wake you up for dinner," Ink teased, though worry still weighed his smile down. 

"Inky, I have you, Error, Reaper, Spright, Respite, and now _Dream_ on speed-dial. I literally have six speed dials set!" He intertwined his fingers with Ink's, giving the taller skeleton a light, reassuring squeeze even as he pressed his face to his back. "You should be more worried about the kids!" 

"Pfft, I have enough worry for the all of us." 

"...Inky, that was sad," Error mumbled around a bite of cereal.

Maybe, but it was _true_.

"I just want you to be safe, hon." Ink murmured, deciding to ignore his first for now. He loved Error, but it was rude of him to call him out like that when he was trying to make sure their shortest was safe.

Although he couldn't directly see the pleasant, pretty hues of Geno's affection, he could feel them seeping into his very being. Along with the gentle, loving sensations and shades, the clear shape of a smile could be felt through the back of his shirt. "I know, hon. If it makes you feel better, I'll keep the door locked and I'll double-check anyone that comes home is who they say they are with some questions."

"You're not afraid?" Ink asked nervously.

Error glanced over at Geno's silence. "Glitch face?"

"...It's going to be a little unsettling at first," Geno admitted, "but I...I don't want to be afraid of being alone in my own house. This is... it's our _home_ , guys. I should feel safe here. I _want_ to feel safe here. If I don't and it gets to be too much, then I'll call, okay?"

"Hmmm... you better," though Ink tried to be firm, he knew his worry was still seeping through. 

Error nodded. "Seriously, Gen. You _better-"_ he flicked his spoon at his brother, forgetting that it was in the bowl of cereal. An entire arc of milk and marshmallows flew and ultimately landed on Ink. 

He tensed up and looked down before laughing. "Abstract art is still art, Ruru! I'm so _proud_ of you~!" 

His first scowled. "Shut up, it was an accident..." 

Geno smiled more, shoulders relaxing. _He'll be fine... he's got so many people within easy reach!_

Still, Ink couldn't seem to shake his worry about leaving Geno alone. All throughout the breakfast the three shared, the artist would drop questions to double check that Geno was _really_ certain he wanted to stay home. By the time the children were up and ready to go, Geno was actually ready to throttle the empath for his near constant questioning of, "Are you sure?"

"For the last time," Geno sighed, wrapped up in Ink's arms in the doorway leading outside, " _yes_ , hon. I'm sure I want to stay and I'm sure I'll be fine."

"But-"

Error shook his head in annoyance. "Inky, he isn't going to change his mind. Short of kidnapping, nothing is going to get him out of the house."

"Kidnapping, huh?" Ink mumbled, a glint in his eyes.

Geno nipped that in the bud with a firm, "No!"

"Geno..."

 _"No._ Either give me a goodbye kiss or get moving without one. No matter which you choose, I'm staying in this house."

Of course, Ink chose the kiss. Although disgusted, Goth walked up to Geno with excitedly fluttering wings and raised his arms, asking, "Me too, mommy?" because he liked kisses a lot better when it wasn't his parents or dunkles giving them to each other.

Smile soft, Geno stepped out of Ink's embrace to lift his son. "I love you, my baby birdie. Have fun with your dunkles and brother, okay?" he said, pressing a kiss to Goth's forehead. 

Chirping happily, the winged child snuggled close and nodded. "Okay, mama!"

For some reason, setting Goth down was hard. _He's getting so big... can he just stay this young forever?_ "Get going you guys." he said, gently pressing a kiss to PJ's head when he smiled shyly and walked up for one. "Have fun, okay? Love you all."

A chorus of "love you too!!" sounded before the kids started bickering about "no _I_ do!". Soon enough, they opened a portal and disappeared. Geno quietly shut the door, turning the lock like he'd promised, then looked around the house. 

_Empty... So empty_.... he shivered slightly, but put on a smile and cleaned up a bit. "Cleaning~! Then gonna read for a bit~! Maybe nap somewhere~!" he sang the words out as he did the dishes. 

_Stars why was it so quiet...??_

Unnerved, he finished up the chores he assigned himself before making his way into the living room. "Maybe... maybe some television will help?" A little bit of noise to drown out the silence...?

Trying it out, he found that, yeah, it... it did kind of help! To make the sound of unknown voices more comforting, he flipped the channel until he found one of the shows the children liked and left it to play as he grabbed his book.

"On second thought..."

Smiling to himself, he left his book on the sofa he fell asleep on and picked up the one Dream had been reading. It was one of his older purchases, so a second readthrough was due. Maybe...

Blushing, Geno cracked open the book and turned to the first page. "Maybe Dream will want to discuss it...?"

Minutes or hours later, honestly Geno lost track, there was a knock on the door. Or was it the doorbell? Maybe it was both? 

By the time Geno had noticed it, both were definitely being used. "C-coming! Sorry! I'm coming!" He glanced around for a quick bookmark, finding his favorite: a braided thread made by Error and dyed by Ink. He smiled softly at it before setting it in the book. "Coming!" He yelled out again and walked over to the door, opening it, "Sorry, I was-" he looked up and froze. 

"Hello, brother."


	38. Alone Time Extended

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Geno _really_ wanted his alone time?

"So, the _one_ place you decided to take us to after shopping _had_ to be this shop?!" Error huffed at Ink. 

When they saw each other through the window, Dream and Reaper both waved, bright grins on their faces. _Ah, good, they got the caffeine they needed._ The kids, of course, squealed, "Dunkle Dreamy! Dunkle Reapy!" and ran in ahead of them. 

"It wasn't really _my_ fault!" Ink complained with a smile. 

The four of them were walking out with Dream and Reaper after ordering their own drinks to-go. The husbands agreed to grab something for Geno, of which Dream insisted on paying for. "A gift from us all...?" he had defended himself. 

"Sure, sure, blame the kiddos," Error snorted, though he had a small smile on his face too. 

PJ stared up at them, "We didn't do nothin!" 

"We didn't do _anything_ , dear," Reaper gently corrected. 

Goth reached for Reaper, flapping his wings. "Daddy! I wanna _fly!!"_

"O-oh, not yet, little bird! But how about being perched on my shoulders?" the god lifted the child, letting him up. Squealing, Goth hugged his head and flapped his wings harder. 

Dream couldn't help but feel soft for the little scene in front of him. _They were just so cute and happy...!!_

 _They… **really** care about each other…_

When they got to the front door, Error motioned for them to stop. 

"What is-?" Ink froze, eyes landing on what his first saw. 

_The front door was cracked open..._

Ink grabbed PJ's hand, summoning his brush in the other. Reaper nodded, bringing Goth down to his arms, though he desperately wanted to burst in and see what happened. The god and the artist met back-to-back, glancing around. Dream followed Error to the door, and the former destroyer went in, strings zooming through every single space in the house. 

Nothing. 

"Geno?!" Error called out, stepping in. "Ge-? What... what's that smell....?" 

Reaper broke first, handing Goth to Ink and stepping past Dream and Error. "Geno!" he called desperately. He followed the scent Error caught until-

"N-no...!" Reaper picked up a scrap of soft red fabric with burns all around it. Below the scrap was a pile of ash, but- 

Error stepped closer, horror growing in his own SOUL. "It... Reaps, he isn't dead-" 

"I _know,"_ he whispered hoarsely. "I k-know, but..." 

"There's nobody h-here," Error's fingers twitched. He started pacing, "What... what do we-" 

Dream tensed as more and more positivity drained from the two. Ink's sockets were widening as the lights nearly went out. "No... n-no... no-" 

PJ and Goth stared at Ink, starting to become nervous. "Dunkle? Mama?" 

Reaper shot his gaze up to Error, "Someone took him. S-someone-" 

Kneeling, the former destroyer put his string-covered hands on the god's shoulders, "We're going to find him."

A distressed sound tore itself free form Reaper's throat, far more animalistic than any of them were used to hearing the usually melodic sounds from the god being. _"How?"_ Reaper asked desperately, fingers curled tight around the scrap of red. 

Forced to release his strings when his fingers began twitching rapidly and tearing bits of their house to pieces, Error dug his restless phalanges into the god's shoulders instead in an attempt to ground himself as he tried to comfort the taller skeleton. "W-we- we can..." they could what, exactly? Track the kidnapper down? 

"Daddy...?" Goth called, squirming in Ink's arms at the sound of another upset trill from his father. When the artist wouldn't release him, he let out his own distressed noise and squirmed more. "Daddy!"

"G-Gothy, hon, please give your daddy a moment?" Ink pleaded, doing his best to keep his hold on the child. "Honey, please stop-"

With a loud screech, Goth flung out his wings behind him. Although much smaller than Reaper's, they were still proportional to Goth's size and more than a little uncomfortable to have whipped against your face. Thrown off by the hit, Ink's arms loosened just enough that Goth was able to break free and going running into the house.

"Daddy!" he cried, running straight into Reaper's arms. Like PJ, he didn't quite understand what was going on, but he knew the sounds his father was making in his distress weren't good. "Is daddy okay?" he asked, "Need mama's kissies?"

 _Oh, gods_ , Choking down the tears that wanted fall, Reaper dropped to his knees before Goth and pulled him into his arms. "Daddy is fine, honey," he lied, "he just... he and your dunkles got a surprise that wasn't very nice."

"I...I'm going to call Spright." Error announced, forcing his shaking hands to keep a firm hold on the phone he pulled from his pocket. "I'll call Res, too. They... we need them here. Ink, Dream, get inside with PJ. Lock the door, too. Shit, one of you should call Blue. See if...if he- if anything is-"

"Ru," Ink choked, "I...I don't think Blue can help us here. He doesn't have eyes on the house."

"And if...if Geno was seen somewhere he shouldn't be, with a stranger no less, he would have called one of us already." Dream added softly. He was afraid to add on the rest of what he had to say, though. _I...I think I know who has him..._

Unbeknownst to Dream, that was a statement everyone else was thinking too, but that no one had the nerve to voice. In a way, saying it would make it too real. 

None of them wanted this to be real.

Reaper rubbed Goth between the wings and looked to Dream, "Please... please just... just check with Blue." 

Gaining his attention, Ink told Error, "I'll call Res. You have-?" he nodded when his first held up a shaking hand. 

Once the three were off the phone, Dream pulled Ink to the side. "Blue didn't see anything unusual. Y-you... you know it's probably-?"

"I know it's a _possibility_ but... b-but _seriously...???_ We... we _just_ started to...." Ink gripped his scarf tight. "Of course... we started to let our guards down..." 

The guardian nodded, a grave look in his sockets. He glanced to Error, who was trying to distract the kids, then to Reaper, who was staring at the scrap of Geno's scarf. 

Mercifully, Spright and Respite came home quickly. A quick check from Dream and Ink, and the other husbands relaxed slightly.

"No," Goth whined when he was handed to Spright, "I dun wanna nap! I wanna stay with Daddy!"

Pained eyes hidden behind his glasses and a false smile, Spright lightly bounced the upset child in his arms. "C'mon, lil dude. Aren't you tired from your day out?"

"No!" Goth cried, small fist pounding on his uncle's shoulders. "I...I want daddy!"

"Goth..." Reaper murmured sadly.

"I want daddy! I want daddy!" The child shouted. When his father wouldn't reach for him, tears filled his eyes and he cried, "I want mommy!" Sure that his mother would hear and soothe him. 

Reaper's already fragile mask crumpled. With a sad, apologetic look to Spright, he took his son back in his arms and bounced him on his hip to get him to settle. "Mommy isn't here right now, sweetie. He... your daddy and dunkles have to go get him, honey."

Comfortably seated in Respite's arms, PJ frowned; confused on where his dunkle went, but sad for Goth for not having his mama there. "Can me and Gothy go with?"

"No, baby," Error whispered, "you and your brother have to stay here, okay?" _If...if Geno is **there** , then there's no way in the hell we could take the kids with._

The older child looked between the adults, frown deepening. Ink walked over, trying to smile. "Take care of your brother for us, okay PJ?" 

"Are ya goin' right now?" 

Reaper nuzzled Gothy, who still sobbed and clung to the god's robes, before looking to Spright. "The sooner we go, the sooner we can get him back."

This time, it was the guardian and the former destroyer that exchanged glances. _We don't know what Nightmare's planning... we need to talk about this first..._

The next two hours seemed to absolutely drag. Goth finally exhausted himself from crying, and PJ was tired from the whole day The husbands tucked them into bed, unable to tell them how long it would be. 

They met downstairs with Dream just _barely_ stopping them from racing out without a plan. "We're all thinking the same thing, right?" 

Respite and Spright were there, and the more colorful of the duo frowned. "Ya broskies. If da evil twin bro's got Geno-" 

"Then we're going to need all of us to attack him and grab Geno back," Reaper growled. 

Again, Error and Dream exchanged looks. "It's not that simple..." the guardian began. 

Ink tensed, staring between the two. "R-Ru... Ru you-" 

Error shook his head. "If he's where we think he is, then I'm going to have to get you guys there. Dream can't make it there. It's too negative for his magic to last long, and I know the damned place like my strings.... for better or worse... I'd be able to get us out easier." 

Respite gently cut in, "But, To Have All Three Of You Going? Shouldn't At Least One Of You Stay?" 

The husbands exchanged glances with each other then looked to Dream, who nodded, "I'll stay. I can keep in contact with Blue and help keep the kids safe here. Like Error said, I wouldn't be able to do much in his domain... and something tells me the three of you are incredibly stubborn and are going to go no matter what we say...?"

Ink cracked a small smile. "Heh, got it in one, Dreambo-"

Three sharp knocks on the door interrupted him.

Hopeful, Reaper perked up, but Ink's arm shot out to block him from moving forward when it looked like the god was about to run to the door. Without turning to meet his husband's desperate, confused stare, Ink slowly shook his head side to side. _That's not Geno..._

Catching the motion, Error tensed and moved in so he was close to Dream, leaving Reaper to the task of working back to back with Ink if things turned ugly. "Can either of you...?"

"No," Dream whispered, tense, "I... there's nothing. Whoever it is, they're blocking their emotions well. Very, _very_ well. Ink, your abilities go beyond my own. Can you tell who it is? What they're feeling?"

Unfortunately, the empath shook his head again. Matching the low, quiet tone his boyfriend and first spoke with, he murmured, "Like you said: There's nothing. I didn't even know they were there until they knocked."

"How do you know it's not Geno then?" Reaper asked, though deep down he knew it made little sense for the knocking to be from Geno. His first would have called out by now, or would have simply teleported inside.

"There's _nothing_ , Reaps. Geno... I know what he feels like. Not just that, but I don't think he knows how to just block himself from being read like this. I'm sorry, but whoever that is-"

_Knock, knock, knock_

"-It's _not_ our husband."


	39. HAPPY FUCKING OCTOBER Y'ALL

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which deals are worse than promises~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **TRIGGER WARNING:** Non-con touching, minor SOUL torture

Though he wasn't one for violence, being the younger god of death, Respite still summoned his scythe and stood ready. In each of his hands, Spright held Furbies, their eyes pulsing, ready to be ignited. Dream summoned his own staff and walked to the door. Glancing back, each of the people nodded, before the guardian slowly cracked the door open, stopping it with the chain and his foot- 

"Dream," the voice on the other side spoke. Ink perked up at the sudden crack in the person's guard. Simultaneously, Error tensed up, drawing strings from his eyes. 

"What... what is this? What are you doing here?" 

"..." a sigh could be heard, and the low voice continued, "I'm just a messenger today, though the message isn't really for you, Dream. It's for the three-" 

"Yeah, I know who it's for." 

"....they've got a choice to come with me or never see him again." Ink had to grab Reaper's arm to keep him from killing the messenger right there. The tone turned somewhat apologetic, "It's dramatic and overused, but you know **he** keeps his word." 

Error stepped passed them, nudging Dream to the side to unlock the chain and open the door more. "Cross, huh? Guess **he** didn't want to start a fight so soon?" 

The voice belonged to a skeleton, roughly as tall as Error was, though he wore a lot of white and black clothes. He had a scar under his right socket, and his eye lights were a miss-matched red and white color. "Error." He started to peer further in, but the former destroyer blocked his view. 

"Is that it?" Error growled. "Nightmare kidnaps my brother and wants to _negotiate_ with my husbands and I?" 

"More or less. He was saying it was taking you too long, and every minute with you three not there is another minute where he'll be less willing to negotiate anything. I'd suggest you come quickly." 

Dream thought he heard growing panic in Cross' voice, but without being able to sense his emotions, he wasn't entirely sure.

"And we're just supposed to trust this?" Ink questioned with a frown, his sockets narrowed and symbols flashing wildly. With every blink, a slight hint of red grew more and more noticeable as the color bled into his eyelights. 

Cross peered around Error the best he could. "If there's one thing you don't do when it comes to Nightmare, it's trust."

The deep, dark voids of Reaper's sockets darkened further. When he spoke, there was musical note behind every word that came out eerie; low and slow like a children's nursery rhyme slowed down for a horror movie. At the sound of it, everyone shivered. 

_"What does that mean for our h u s b a n d?"_

Despite the blank mask he wore and the sturdy shield around his emotions, it was clear in the way he took an uncertain step back that the god's voice unnerved Cross. "Look," he mumbled, "trusting Nightmare is stupid, but _listening_ to him is your only option here. He wants you over. _Now_. If you choose not to listen, then, best case scenario, your husband dies."

"...Best case?" Dream whispered.

Cross turned his head to avoid the golden Star's eyes. "Nightmare has plans." Briefly, his eyelights flickered to Error. "...He says he's been _lonely_ , these last five years."

The bleaching fear on Error's emotions had both Ink and Dream glancing to him. Reaper stepped forward, starting to place a hand on Error's arm, "Ru-" but Error flinched from the touch, glitches swarming near where it almost happened. 

Error looked up at the god, whispering hoarsely, "We don't really have a choice." 

Spright and Respite exchanged nervous glances. This was obviously some sort of trap, right...? 

But _Geno_ was... 

Dream stared at Cross, frowning, "Would you like to elaborate...?" 

_"You_ know I _can't_..." Cross pocketed his hands, stepping back. "I'll give you a few minutes." 

_He knows they're going to go_... Dream watched Cross take several steps back, keeping them in view. Dream turned to the rest of the family- 

Ink stood by Error, looking at him. "Ru-" 

"We nEeD to Go, Ink...." Error shuddered and tried focusing on his breathing. "You kNow this, riGhT?" 

"I know, but it's-" 

Gently, but firmly, Reaper murmured, "We don't have time." 

Error nodded, looking back to Respite and Spright.

"Dontcha worry 'bout the lil broskis. We'll take care of them," Spright waved his Furbies. 

Respite bowed his head slightly. "I'll Cover For You, Brother, Though I Hope It Doesn't Take Too Long." 

When the three husbands turned to their boyfriend, Dream found himself near the verge of tears. He was... he was so scared... but he put a brave, if somewhat wavering, smile on for them. "You know I'll happily protect and look after them."

Together, Ink and Reaper stepped closer and enclosed the golden Star in their embrace. As he watched the three come together, Error shifted, but ultimately stayed still. He couldn't- oh.

Having pocketed his twitching hands to hide the nervous, stressed shaking, he came across something he forgot he had. When Reaper and Ink reluctantly pulled away from Dream, he stepped forward.

"H...hErE..." he choked out, cursing his glitching voice that just wouldn't fucking _work_ correctly. Withdrawing a trembling hand, he reached out and dropped something into Dream's flat, open palm. Thankfully, the guardian knew not to touch him. "I...I'll FiNiSh iT wHen wE gEt bAcK..."

Glittering tears filled Dream's sockets when his eyelights landed on just what Error dropped into his hand. To anyone else, it would have been meaningless, trash even, but Dream saw Ink wearing enough of them to recognize that the long strand of braided color string was the beginnings of a rope bracelet. 

Blue for Error.

Black for Reaper.

A pretty gradient of color for Ink.

A sparkling gold for Dream.

And red...for Geno...

Closing his hand around the unfinished bracelet, Dream looked to the destroyer with a tearful smile. "Please, be safe. Play my brother's games if you need to, but...but please, please be safe." His eyes moved to Ink and Reaper. _"All_ of you."

Reaper nodded solemnly, and Ink trembled but, "Y-you too. Um... d-don't forget their meals. A-and if they get crabby, um, they really like when you tell them stories because of the lights. And-" 

"Ink..." Dream reached out and squeezed his hands. "Don't worry about us, hon." 

"H-heh... I have enough worry for the all of us..." Ink wiped at his face and took a shuddering breath. "Okay... okay... um.." he glanced up at the stairs, but was stopped by Error's strings wrapping around his hand. 

"In-InKY..." Error's expression was one of understanding, but he nodded towards the door. Slowly, Ink let go of Dream's hand and the three husbands walked out the door, making their way to Cross. 

Cross watched them approach, glancing back and seeing Dream's gaze flicker between the four of them.

Taking up Ink's free hand, Reaper bore into Cross' eyes with a cold, hateful stare. "I guess you've upgraded from stealing tacos?" he murmured, recalling the first instance he saw the scarred skeleton. "You know, you seemed fun before. It's a shame that upgrade had to involve my husband."

Expression unreadable, Cross bravely turned his back to them and summoned a blade to his hand. "Word of advice?" Slashing through the air, he dispelled the blade and stepped aside to showcase the portal leading to a dark, dreary hallway with a large set of gleaming double doors at the end. "Keep comments like that to yourself. Anything you say can be used against you."

At the sight of the hall, Error tensed. "Th...thAt'S-!"

"The throne room doors? Yeah, he's waiting for us inside." Looking over them all, Cross sighed, "Hands separated, single file. Error, you go first, then the artist, and then the god. I'll be behind you all. Go."

Reaper clenched his jaw but the three of them did as instructed. Ink looked to his husbands, a stone of dread sinking in his bones. Schooling his expression back to one of annoyance, Error stepped through, and the others followed. Cross glanced back, looking away from Dream's piercing golden gaze, and the portal shut behind them. 

They were met with the grand throne room doors, and a heavy _weight_ on each of their SOULs. It was more from negativity than anyone's powers, but it sent the three on edge, with Error's fingers twitching. 

Ink started to reach for his own scarf, but forced his hands back into his pockets. 

Reaper barely restrained from letting out a low growl. This place... it reminded him of an execution center. So when Error opened the doors, the god was expecting some sort of guillotine or noose set-up, and was somewhat surprised to find a vast, _long_ room with a throne at the very end. There was a dining table against the wall with several chairs stacked on top of it, but in front of them was a carpet leading to the throne, and dark candles floating everywhere.

 _Dramatic ass_... Error felt the nostalgia slosh over him, though he hated it so. He felt out of place here, especially considering the years he thankfully had away, but it was the little details that kept the nostalgia annoyingly persistent. 

The smell of watered down bleach they used for everything, mingled with the cheap detergent from the clothes and rugs and curtains, mingled also with the dark citrus scent of the candles Error hated. _Bastard_... 

When they got closer, the sight of the throne made the old memories worse. 

_"What do you say to being my second, Error?" His voice purred. The euphoria of the latest job was still racing through the destroyer's bones, and his eyes alit with pride. Second? To Nightmare? What an honor-!_

That spot by the throne was empty, for the moment. The throne itself was empty too, which didn't surprise the destroyer in the least, so much as it completely unnerved him. 

_...where's Geno...?_

Unseen due to his position behind the trio, Cross' emotionless facade cracked to reveal a confused frown of his own. This... this wasn't apart of the plan. As dramatic as Nightmare preferred to be when it came to situations like this, he was supposed to have forgone making an entrance.

He was supposed to _be here_ by the time their so-called guest arrived.

"Go no further than you are now." he instructed, his confusion unheard as he gave the orders. Nightmare would show eventually. For now, he would continue with his mission. "Since the King of the castle has yet to arrive, we'll await his presence."

"Lucky for you, you won't have to wait long."

Simultaneously, the trio of husband's tensed at the sound of Nightmare's voice. From what he recalled from the bullshit etiquette Nightmare demanded of his followers, the way the three of them whirled around was far from proper, but Error didn't really give a fu-

"Geno." he choked, thoughts stalling and sockets opening wide. Alongside him, Ink and Reaper voiced his brother's name with just as much distress in their voice.

Eye lowered, the glitch remained silent. Beside him, Nightmare grinned, dressed smartly in fine luxurious clothing that matched the extravagant gown the small skeleton at his side wore. The small skeleton _who had his arm linked with Nightmare's._

"You'll have to forgive us," Nightmare said, tone falsely apologetic, "it took far more time than I expected to get Gen into his gown. We got," his voice dropped into a purr, "distracted, you could say."

Simultaneously, Error and Reaper took threatening steps forward, stopped only by Ink's grip on their sleeves. 

The artist's attention was on his smallest husband. _Purple, a dull throbbing centered on his neck,_ though Ink couldn't see it from here. _More purple, though fading, was around his wrists and ankles, as if he-_

Red flashed in his eye lights as he glared at Nightmare. 

But the king merely widened his grin, "You sure you want to do that, _Protector?"_

Error cut in, "Cross said you wanted to negotiate with us. Here we are." 

It seemed like his old boss was ignoring him in favor of mentally undressing his husbands. Ink shifted slightly on his feet, seeing and feeling the intent. Finally, Nightmare's gaze raked over Error's body. "You've gotten soft."

Bristling, Error clenched his jaw and took a single step forward. "And you're even more fucking dramatic than before." he growled, eyes narrowed and full of hate. "For once in your life, cut the fucking bullshit and tell us what you want."

Amused by his reaction, Nightmare chuckled, "Soft, but still sporting that _filthy_ mouth, I see." Apparently having enough of Error, he turned his attention to Cross and narrowed his eye slightly. "Cross, take your position."

Nodding silently, the black and white clad skeleton made his way over to the- Ink glanced at Error when an ugly mix of red and green flared around his first. It was brief, but strong enough that traces of the colors lingered around the destroyer. _Anger_ , that was always easy to read, _and...jealously. Faded, but...?_ Why would it have been there at all?

"This discussion may take awhile." Nightmare informed them, smile still in place. "I'm afraid we have no chairs available, but do feel free to kneel if you tire of standing. Geno," he purred, "come. Let _us_ take our seat."

 _He doesn't want to._ Ink could see that, both with and without his abilities. 

Eyelight still on the floor, Geno gave a small, shaky nod before allowing himself to be lead by the arm he had laced with Nightmare's. When they passed his brother and husbands; however, his eye light briefly flicked up and caught Reaper's concerned gaze. 

Reaper jolted, "Ge-"

"Ah, ah. Eyes down, dear." Nightmare purred, his own toxic eye on the god who Ink just barely managed to restrain. "It's rude to look at other men when you're on my arm."

Quickly, Geno looked back down. When he was walked to the throne and made to seat himself on Nightmare's lap, he kept looking down. 

When a hand slid under the elegant skirt of his dress, his socket shut, horror in the action and painted all across his colors for Ink to see.

The rage and impatience that built up between the three husbands was immediate and _hot._

Nightmare _loved_ it. 

_"Play my brother's games if you need to..."_ Ink grit his teeth. _Is this one of his games? To have us stewing in- oh. Obviously...._

As Ink worked to calm down, Nightmare took notice. 

_So someone thinks they're smart, do they?_

Well then, guess he would see just how well that intellect worked in Ink's favor. After all, realizing his plans would do the artist little good if he couldn't maintain control over his cooling emotions.

Casually, the king of the castle slid his hidden hand higher. Due to the excessive length of Geno's gown, the path his hand was traveling went unseen. Had it not been for the intense focus the group before them had on Nightmare and the clear growing discomfort on Geno's face, his hand's movement might have gone unnoticed entirely.

"Now that we're all settled in," he began, smile in place as he caressed the plain bone of Geno's thigh, "why don't we begin this meeting? I'm sure you all have your demands, so I'll let you state those first before we get to _my_ side of the... hm, I suppose we'll call it a deal."

A little higher, and Nightmare's hand encountered loose lace. 

He smiled, speaking over the frightened whimper Geno made. "So, which of you would like to go first?"

The husbands didn't even need to glance to each other to know what they wanted. _Geno back and to be let go before things get worse._

Reaper was the one to say it. "Let Geno go."

Fingertips danced across the delicate lace of the undergarments Geno wore, too light to stir interest but very pointedly _there_. As Nightmare hummed in thought and switched his smile for a considering expression, the touch slid up to the band of the lace undergarments. 

A single finger wormed inside, curling to hook itself on the band of the panties. 

"Let him go?" Nightmare repeated, as if needing clarification that he heard correctly. As he spoke, lace was slowly dragged down, though being seated greatly interfered with this. 

"Yes." Reaper growled.

Under the guise of adjusting himself to get more comfortable, Nightmare nudged Geno up. "I see, so that's what you want..." When Geno, terrified, didn't move, the sludge covered skeleton sighed. 

_Riiiip._

Horrified, Geno brought his hands up and pressed them into the skirt of his dress, right over his pelvis. _He-!_

"Ah, sorry." Nightmare apologized, withdrawing his hand and carelessly flinging the ruined cloth he had in his hand over the back of his throne. "I didn't realize that would be so loud. Continue, god. Tell me why I should let Gen here go."

Rage flared in his ribcage, and the god took a step forward. "Why do you have him in the first place?!" He snarled. 

"Leverage," Error whispered, eyes blazing. Reaper whipped his gaze to the former destroyer, seeing the cold understanding in his sockets. 

Nightmare tilted his head to Ink and Error, neither confirming nor denying. "What are your demands? The same as the god's?"

Breathing through the sharp anger seeping into him from the god, Ink stepped forward; his symbols flashing with the colors he was trying not to feel. _Keep your calm. Anger, hate, fear... anything that hurts Dream only feeds Nightmare._ Easier said than done, but he had to at least try to keep the stifling heat of his rage down. If he couldn't extinguish the red entirely, then he'd have to keep it at a low simmer. 

"We just want our husband, Nightmare." He said, tone firm and voice loud to ensure that the smiling skeleton on the throne would have no reason to pretend he couldn't hear. "Whatever you want? We'll discuss it. Just give Geno back to us first."

A tendril slid out from where it was tucked behind Nightmare's back. Slick with black sludge, it left a dark trail on the white of Geno's bone as it came around and curled to cup the glitch's cheek. "Aw, but I've grown attached to him. It's been so long since I've had a companion, you see. And Geno..."

Error tensed when the toxic glowing eyelight in Nightmare's socket slid to meet his gaze.

"Well," turning his gaze to Ink's eyes, Nightmare shrugged, "he's _close_ enough to my old lover that having him in my arms just feels right. I'd prefer someone prettier, but I suppose we can't choose who our hearts connect with."

Ink narrowed his sockets. "You don't." 

"Don't what, Protector? You'll have to be more specific." 

"You don't love him," Ink spoke the words with certainty. "You don't even _like_ him. He may remind you of an old... _companion_ , but... just let him go, Nightmare."

Again, his gaze slid to Error. "Any demands, Destroyer?" 

"Give Geno back. Let us go. Nobody gets hurt." 

"Ohhh... is that a demand, or is that a threat?" 

Error narrowed his gaze. "It's the only deal, Nightmare. I don't really give a shit what you want. As far as I'm concerned, you give us Geno and let us leave? We won't bother you." 

Nightmare chuckled lowly. "If I recall, you made a deal with me hmmm…. five years ago? Maybe more?" He tilted Geno's head towards him, smiling down at the scared skeleton. "Besides, you three haven't even heard _my_ side."

At the mention of the deal, Error stiffened. "...The five year mark passed _months ago_ , Nightmare. In just another month, it'll be six years since that deal was made." PJ turns six a little more than halfway through the next month. "If you cared about upholding that deal, you should have come around long ago."

"Would I?" Nightmare questioned, stroking Geno's cheek with the tip of his tendril. When Error didn't reply to his rhetoric, he fell in a thoughtful silence that fed the annoyance of his guests. Frowning slightly, he brought another tendril up and let it curl around Geno's wrist like a bracelet. Or a shackle. "Funny." he murmured after some time.

Error's sockets narrowed, "What is?" 

A tendril around Geno's ankle, one curled around his waist... "The fact that you truly believe you know a damn thing about me. It's been fiv- sorry, _almost six_ years, Error. That's plenty of time for an old _friend_ to become a stranger. 'If I cared', you say? Well, maybe I do still care about that deal. Maybe I don't. At the moment, the terms of _that_ one don't matter. See, I'm currently more interested in the possibility of the deal the five of us could make _now_. In a moment, I think you will be too."

"We don't give a _fuck_ about whatever deal you want, Nightmare!" Error snapped, "Just give us Geno! Fuck whatever it is you want!" 

Nausea stirred within Ink at the resulting colors Error's words invoked in Nightmare. _Oh, gods, Ru-_

"Oh, trust me, old _friend."_ Nightmare chuckled, "I fully intent to. Geno, darling?"

Trembling as the tendril around his ankle began slithering up, the glitch quietly responded with a small, "Y-yes...?"

"Before we take your brother's words to heart, why don't we show our guest why they would be more concerned with hearing my side of the deal than with simply taking you and leaving? Lets," he smirked, "put a bit of heart and _SOUL_ into the discussion."

Geno paled, "P-please d-d-don't!"

"What are you doing?!" Reaper hissed. 

"Showing you my side of the deal," Nightmare's grin turned toxic. "You see, I have the perfect little team standing in front of me. 'Course, there's this little problem that they're on the wrong side of things." 

The husbands stared before Error busted up laughing. "Wait! Wait wait wait... you... you want _us_ to _join_ you?!" 

"E-Error," Ink warned, watching Geno squirm uncomfortably, and Nightmare's tentacles and hands roam more. 

"No!" Error snapped, whipping his head back to his former boss, "Really! What the _fuck_ makes you think we're going to join you, Nightmare?!"

Slowly, almost sensually, Nightmare forced Geno's SOUL to form in a clawed hand. He reached around the glitch and trailed a finger down the middle of it and, unwillingly, tears escaped Geno's eye. The husbands froze. Meeting each of their gazes, Nightmare's grin turned cocky, "So... shall we make a deal?"

 _Please, please don't_ , Geno silently begged, trying to convey the plea through his gaze alone. _Please, go. Just...just go._

"Geno..." Reaper trilled, soft and full of worry. 

Hand clasped around the glitch's SOUL as it was, Nightmare had a direct link into Geno's emotions. Although the contact wasn't enough to give him insight into the glitch's thoughts, small glimpses and vague feelings were passed along to him. _He wants them to run, doesn't he?_ Well, that wouldn't be any fun.

"I'm afraid you'll all have to wait a moment or two before hearing _my_ demands. My hostage is trying to get you all to flee." Turning his attention away from trio, Nightmare forced Geno to face him and sighed, "Geno, darling, we _talked_ about this. Looking at other men? Sending them meaningful looks? It's rather rude when you're currently at my side. If having your SOUL in hand isn't enough to make you behave..."

Before anyone could blink, Nightmare's hand lashed out. With a sharp crack, the glitch's head was forced to the side, magic already rushing to burn his cheek red. 

"...then maybe that will help." Nightmare finished coldly. His voice warmed the second he turned back to the others. "Anyways, back to my demands."

Reaper's scythe was in his hand the _second_ he saw Nightmare raise a hand- 

Cross met him with a crash of blades, his own eyes flashed in warning to the others. "Don't." 

"Move, or I'll kill you." 

"REAPS, DON'T-!" 

Ink's warning came to late, when Nightmare pierced Geno's SOUL with a thumb, and their husband seized and screamed. Reaper faltered just long enough for Cross to disarm him and force him back. "GENO!" he cried out. 

"I really think you should listen to my demand, god." 

"You bastard," Error's strung-out hands twitched.

"Bastard?" Nightmare repeated, a single brow raised. "Don't you think that's a little unfair? See, I was being nice before the god stepped out of line. One little love tap got him all riled up?"

"Love tap?!" Reaper snarled, cyan flashing in his eye and fingers itching to call the scythe torn from his hand back to his side. "You call that a fucking love tap?! You sick-"

"Reaper..." Ink warned, sensing the malicious intent around their husband's captor. "Reaper, _please_ , c-calm....calm down..."

"Yes, _Reapsy,"_ Nightmare purred, "you really ought to calm yourself. See, that love tap you're so upset about...?"

A tendril came up and around and lightly curled around the SOUL impaled on Nightmare's thumb. With an unfittingly cheerful pop!, it tugged the SOUL off and lifted it away so that it remained trapped in Nightmare's grasp, but was in full mocking view of the trio of skeletons before him. 

With both hands free, nothing stopped Nightmare from reaching out and cupping the glitch's face from behind. Eerily similar to the head of a doll being turned this way and that, the lord of despair forcefully turned Geno's face back toward's his family to showcase not just the wide, tear filled socket with a pinprick eyelight, but the large, splotchy spot of red all across his swelling cheek.

"Well, look, Reapsy. It clearly wasn't all that bad. No cracking, no blood... He's in fine condition. Only..." claws curled, digging into the soft bone of the sides of Geno's skull. To Ink, every fingertip on his smallest husband's head was painted in tiny splotches of purple that grew the harder the grip got. "...you attacked me, god." Above Nightmare's head, the tendril holding the SOUL waved; a threat. "And you saw from that god that there's _much, much worse_ I can do than a love tap, _if you three don't calm the fuck down and speak with me like adults._ You're worried about Gen here? Then step back and take a moment to consider my offer."

"Offer?" Error laughed; loud and ragged. "This isn't a deal, Nightmare. There's no _offer_. There's no fucking choice. We-"

Nightmare cut in, "Oh, there's a choice, old friend. There's only one that ends well for poor,” ten little trails of marrow seeped from the claws slowly cutting through bone, "little," Geno whimpered in pain, "Genocide." Slowly, the tendril around the SOUL tightened, forcing Geno's whimper to extend into a sob. "So, go ahead. Discuss amongst yourselves. We'll wait."

Reaper glared down at Nightmare. "What exactly do you want from us?" 

Error whipped his head to Reaper, half incredulous, half terrified. _He's signing an open check..._ Meeting Ink's gaze, the former destroyer knew the artist was thinking the same thing, but... 

_This is **their Geno**... they can't just..._

"Isn't it obvious?" Nightmare clucked his tongue. "Or are you three really so stupid? I want your willing obedience." 

"Set Geno free, and we'll give you a month," Error growled.

Nightmare laughed, "Oh, Error," he sighed fondly, "I really did miss you, you know? Certain things just weren't the same when you left. My desire for _entertainment_ just hasn't been fulfilled since you've gone."

At his side, Cross shifted slightly; far from noticeable enough to draw attention, but still enough that Ink couldn't help noticing the small, subtle movement. _I... I still can't read him_... Not with the guard's shield, at least, yet there was something in his unreadable eyes that irked him. _Why move? He was perfectly still up until Reaper attacked, so it can't be discomfort..._

At the sound of Error's voice, Ink shook the thoughts away. This wasn't the time for getting distracted. For all he knew, the black and white clad skeleton was just tired of standing. True reason or not, it didn't matter when his husband was being held captive and practically tortured before their eyes.

"I'm not here to entertainment you!" Error hissed, a wild look in his eyes. "You want to talk deals? Then stop fucking around and lets talk. One month of full, willing obedience if you let my brother go free."

Again, Nightmare laughed, "Error, Error... I'm not a fool. If I let him go, then your reasons for keeping your end of the deal vanish. You've already broken one deal, Error. I won't have you do the same to another. So, here's a better offer: I keep dear, sweet Ge~no~cide~ in my company for a month, and you spend that time proving your loyalty to me. Any order I give, you three follow until your trial comes to an end and you've proven yourself perfectly loyal and obedient."

"And after we do?" Ink asked, because it couldn't possibly be that simple.

Nightmare smirked, bloody claws pulling free from Geno's skull and snaking down to his waist. "Do well during that month and I'll let you see this darling little glitch," he purred, tendrils writhing all around Geno's trapped form.

A spark of pleasure and a distressed whine had Ink lurching forward instinctively. _Stop! Stop touching him, you-_

Amusement glinted in Nightmare's eye. "I plan to treat him _very, very well_ , but do remember during your month here how easily that can change. Fail to meet my standards and Gen... well, I'll leave my punishments up to your imagination."

"Stop touching him!" Reaper demanded, though it came off as a plea. "If we agree to this, you- if this is a _deal_ , then we should get to add in our own terms."

 _Reaps_... Error clenched his hands into fist. "...Yeah," he quietly agreed, hope low that Nightmare would listen, "if this is a deal, Nightmare, then there has to be something better in store for us. Geno's safety, for one. If you're," he growled, _"keeping him_ for a month, then how do we know you won't hurt him?"

Nightmare smirked, "You don't. But is that uncertainty worth his life? I _may_ have a little fun with him if you agree to stay, but if you don't? There's no 'I may' or 'I might'. Oh no, I _will_ have my fun with him, then I'll send you his dust once I'm done."

"After the month," Ink choked out, but held firm. "After the month, l-let's say we've met all your _standards_... you're going to give us Geno, and we're going to leave." 

He chuckled. "How about we see how you do at the end of the month, because as it stands right now? We've still yet to make a deal." 

"That's because we want Geno completely unharmed, and you can't even promise that," Error growled. 

"Just like you three cannot promise complete obedience towards me?" 

The husbands fell quiet. Reaper's voice was low, "We can _try-"_

"What if it was one of us, complete obedience for a year, if the other three were allowed to leave?" Ink murmured, eyes on Nightmare. 

"Ink, **no-"**

Ink's head turned just enough to meet Error's eyes with wavering symbols. _One of us is better than all of us_ , he thought, pleading Error to understand. 

The clear message made Error want to scream, because Ink didn't _understand_. This place wasn't safe for any of them, especially not one of them on their own.

For a moment, Nightmare looked tempted. Then, he smirked. "Mmm, but why settle for _one_ when I can have the entire set? The Protector, The Destroyer, _and_ the God of Death all under my thumb? If even for a month, that's quite the win. So, no, artist. Just one, even if for a year, won't do. I want _all_ of you. So," he grinned, "what do you three say?"

_We don't have a choice..._

"Don't hurt him." Reaper growled lowly. 

"That's not an answer, god." 

Error took a step forward, ignoring Cross's warning glance, "We'll do your one month, Nightmare." 

Ink stared at the lord of darkness before lowering his gaze, "We'll do it..."

"Then kneel." Nightmare demanded. "Kneel before your leader, your king, and pledge yourself to my cause."

None of them wanted to, but a small, pained sound from the terrified glitch on Nightmare's lap left them with little choice. Slowly, one by one, they dropped to their knees; heads bowed.

"We," Ink swallowed, "we pledge ourselves to you, Nightmare." For this month, he thought, unsettled by how little he believed it.

A wide, victorious smile slid across Nightmare's face; bright and white and so, so smug.

"Welcome to the castle, _friends_ , or should I say..."

Poisonous glee stretched the smile wider.

"Welcome _home_ , nightmares."


	40. Start of Trial Month

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the hubbies get comfortable in their new room! ( **Warning** : Feels)

Cross took their phones from them, and everything in their inventories that couldn't be summoned with magic. "Do not use your weapons anywhere, unless it is in the sparring room or on a mission." 

_Or Geno gets hurt..._

The husbands shared glances. Reaper dematerialized his scythe, and Ink replaced his Broomy on his back. Error fiddled with the strings in his hands before balling them up and shoving them in his pockets. 

"Follow me..." Cross murmured, walking down a hall. 

The silence was nearly unbearable after the uncomfortable kneeling and heavy sense of dread. Ink coughed, "S-so... where are we going?" 

Cross spared a glance backwards before glancing to Error. "Do you remember where we are?" 

The former -the _reinstated_ \- destroyer glanced around then scowled fiercely. "No..." 

"No you don't remember or no you don't want to say it?" 

"Take your pick." 

Cross sighed, "We're going to Error's old room."

 _The color red, thrashing around the blue-white fear_... Ink grabbed his husband's hand.

Instinctively, Error flinched back from the touch before forcefully stilling. _It’s just Ink_ , he reminded himself, curling his hand around Ink’s and breathing deeply. With his flare-ups, it was better to take the comfort his husband was offering now instead of mourning the missed opportunity later. _It’s just Ink..._

“ThErE-“ He cleared his throat, “There isn’t enough room. Not for sleeping, anyways. My bed was only ever meant for one person.”

The guard leading them didn’t look back as he spoke, “The bed has been replaced.”

Error tensed, “When?”

“Error...” Cross sighed.

 _“When,_ Cross?”

“...Sometime last month.”

Error’s enraged flare was bright and distracting but not so much that Ink couldn’t see the horror his first felt; reflected in Reaper’s and his own SOULs.

 _This was planned_. It made sense that it would be, but... 

The three shared a distraught look. _If they replaced the bed to fit at least three of them last month, just **how long** has Nightmare been expecting this to happen?_

"Can you tell us anything...?" 

Cross glanced away, shoulders drooping _just_ slightly. "Tomorrow is when you'll meet with Nightmare to discuss the finer details-" 

"That he didn't mention." Came the bitter grumble. 

Cross glanced at Error, "....Yes. Each day the three of you will be given a task that you’ll be expected to perform to the best of your abilities. Anything more, you’ll learn tomorrow, okay?" 

"Let me guess," Error cut in again. "Taco runs? Petty thefts?" 

"That, I cannot tell you." 

Reaper peered at Error. _Worse... it's got to be worse..._

Ink shut his sockets tightly, trying so hard to ignore the fear mingling between himself and his husbands.

"If I were to guess, I would expect something a little more... _worldly."_

 _AU destruction_... Error grit his teeth. "WhY telL us?" 

"Because," Ink whispered, "He doesn't think we'll be able to make it the whole month... Right? You're taking pity on us." 

Cross looked away, "Or I could be trying to make you more anxious to make _sure_ you mess up..." 

But Error knew Cross. Enough that he was almost positive that the new second’s statement was simply something meant to throw them off balance. Then again, the history they shared was aged; faded by time and Error’s best attempts at casting his past aside for a better future. Still...

_“Get back here, you fucker!” Error shouted, bolting down the gloomy castle hall with a **specialized** doll held above his head. “I already said running was useless, so accept defeat and face your fucking punishment like a man!” _

_“Fuck off, Error!” Cross shot back over his shoulder, a slight sheen of sweat decorating his forehead as he booked it fast. “I’m not going anywhere near you until you get rid of that… that fucking monstrosity! I don’t deserve this, damnit!”_

_“You ate my chocolate! I’m just trying to help you wash it down with some **milk!** ”_

_With that, Error hefted the surprisingly heavy handmade plush he held and threw it with as much force as he could manage. Like a bullet, it shot through the air, just **barely** skimming the top of Cross’ skull and continuing forward until it flopped onto the floor innocently; a small, easily avoidable obstacle in Cross’ path.<.i> _

_At the sight of beady button eyes staring at him, Cross screamed; horrified by the sweet face of the plush cow._

_“MOO, BITCH!” Error shouted over his terror._

Heh, they used to have fun together, didn’t they?

 _And I abandoned him here... for five, almost SIX years... it would be a miracle if he didn't take it personally... right...?_ Error tightened his grip on Ink's hand, taking shaky breaths to try to control himself. _I... I don't know which is the lie...!_ A guess was just that: A guess. No matter what history they shared, Error wasn’t completely certain of the present Cross’ truthfulness.

Reaper, though staying by his husbands, was watching Cross closely. _He... doesn’t **seem** to be taking any joy in this..._ but the asshole’s blank expression was impossible to read and, unlike Error, Reaper didn’t have prior information on Cross to go off of.

"We're here." Cross informed them, breaking the trio of husbands out of their thoughts. 

Error stared at the familiar door before him. Although it looked freshly dusted, it was clear to him that it hadn’t been tampered with outside of cleaning purposes. The chipped paint, all the dings from when he crashed into it after getting too hurt or after Nightm- "Killer's stupid fucking hole is still there..." Error muttered, glaring at the thin, knife-born puncture through the wood of the door by the handle. 

"Yes, it is." 

"WhY?!" 

"...Nostalgia?" The black and white clad skeleton shrugged slightly. "Honestly, Killer will probably add more holes. Why waste money on a new door? If anything, he’ll take it as an invitation to ‘personalize’ for you again." 

_At least we **have** a door..._ Ink felt nausea rise up in his SOUL. The fact that he worried about not having one at all said a lot about this place, didn’t it? 

"Anyway, your alarm has been set for tomorrow. Don’t ignore it. The bathroom is down the hall. There's a small kitchen down the same hall. Basically, stay in this hall, between the three rooms until tomorrow or unless you're summoned. And," he turned and looked the three in the eyes, "Please don't start a fight. Or engage in one? Or do and suffer the consequences, I guess..." 

"Not even in self-defense?" Ink asked. 

"No, because you'd probably find a way to make anything look like self-defense."

Reaper smirked, though the humor in the expression was severely lacking. _He’s right_ , he thought ruefully. 

Cross swept his gaze over the trio. “For the sake of your husband...” his voice lowered to a whisper as his eyes flicked around, as if wary of being overheard, “... _Behave_ , you three.”

Error jolted slightly, _That’s not a warning. It’s...it’s a plea..._

Voice raising to its normal volume, Cross straightened and looked at them cooly, his hands causally tucked into his pockets. “For now, that’s all. I’ll be here early tomorrow to escort you back to the throne room.”

With that, the new second turned on his heel and left.

When they could no longer see his back or hear his footsteps, Error reached for the door handle with the intent of entering his old room, but found that he was unable to make himself touch it. _It’s just a door…_ He told himself, trying not to think of all he experienced in the small room hidden behind it.

_“Such a shame that your room is so far from mine, lover. Oh well, I guess that just means we’ll have to make some...fond **memories** in here so that you’ll remember me during our night’s apart._

Hand shaking, he looked away and dropped his outstretched arm, thankful for Reaper when the god smiled uncertainly at him but ultimately reached past and pushed open the door. 

Although all three of them half-expected something horrible, it was just… a room. With the blank walls and the size of the bed taking up more space than the smaller one Error recalled, it resembled more of a motel room than the actual hell they were in. Clean, a little cramped with a small table, a rickety chair, and- 

"No windows..." Ink gulped, starting to shake. 

But Error was horrified for an entirely different reason. 

_None of his personal things were there._

At least, not in the open. A check under the bed and in the closet revealed boxes holding the half-destroyed remnants of Error's past here. In his search for his old things, he found that the dresser contained brand new clothes for each of them; loose slacks and long sleeve shirts in Nightmare's colors, though one drawer held Error's fancier robes. Good to know, but… but the _boxes…_

Swallowing nervously, Error lowered himself to the floor and dragged the nearest box closer to himself. While Ink and Reaper slowly crept in behind him, he threw the flimsy cardboard flaps open only to suck in a sharp breath at what he found. 

Ink looked at him worriedly, “Ru…?” _Why… why are you suddenly so blue?_ He attempted to peer over Error’s head, but the destroyer was hunched over the box entirely, blocking his view. “Honey, what’s wrong…?”

“That _bastard.”_ Error hissed, voice shaking as he stared into the box. “I- how did he find these? I had them hidden, damnit! _I...I hAd tHeM **hiDdEn!**_

Crouching at his side, Reaper looked to the destroyer with a worried but gentle expression on his face. Slowly, he reached his hand out and skimmed them over the back of Error’s bowed skull. When the destroyer didn’t flinch away or react in any other poor manner, he gently smoothed his hand over Error’s head and murmured his name in a soft trill:

“Had what hidden, hon?”

At the destroyer’s other side, Ink copied the god and lowered himself to the floor to provide his own comfort for their husband. “Can we see, Ruru?”

Trembling slightly, Error shook his head and bent further over the box. “I… they were in the fucking _ceiling.”_ How had Nightmare found them? A quick glance up showed no obvious cracks or seals to give his hiding space away.

“Error…”

With a deep breath that stuttered with his distress, Error slowly uncurled from his position over the box. Shaking hands full of wildly twitching fingers, he reached in and pulled out a stack of crumpled, torn papers. Some were even burnt, it seemed. As he did so, tiny confetti-like scraps slipped out and fluttered back into the box; little more than shreds instead of actual paper.

“I had them hidden…” The destroyer murmured, repeated his earlier words with a sad, wavering voice. Shoulders slumped as they were, he looked defeated.

Hesitantly, Ink and Reaper reached out and took up a single sheet each. For Reaper, the realization of what he was looking at came slow.

For Ink, it was instant. 

“Oh, Ru…” he breathed, shakily reaching out for another scrap of paper, then another, and another… “You- these are-”

Torn, burnt, crumpled… Damaged in various ways, multiple sketches made up the stack of papers Error held. A quick glance into the box showed more; all in the same state of disrepair.

Chest heavy, Ink flipped through them all.

A messy, broken up sketch of Error in the midst of battle.

A sloppy drawing of a skeletal figure under the stars.

A scrap of a smile…

Stars, so many pictures; all hand-drawn. By _Ink._

“I had them hidden…” Error repeated yet again, hands cupping a single shred of paper. On it, two smiles were met in a kiss. “I… fuck, they searched out everything, didn’t they? If...If they found the hidden panel in the ceiling, then-”

Eyes widening in sudden panic, Error shoved the box he was currently rifling through away and scrambled for the stack he made when he found the others. Tearing through them, he cursed under his breath and ignored the worried calls of his name as he desperately searched for whatever it was that he couldn’t seem to find.

“No, no, no!” Error shouted, purposefully knocking over a box of burnt, broken toys that spilled across the floor and hurriedly digging through the one beneath it. “Where- fuck! _Fuck!”_

Reaper tried to call his name but went ignored. The same happened for Ink’s attempt.

“Someone took it.” Error rasped, trembling faintly when he came up empty handed after looking through the last of the boxes. “Someone… s...sOmEoNE...t-tOok mY...my…”

“Error-” Ink tried again.

The destroyer whirled around with wide, watering sockets. “Someone took _PJ’s-_ ” he cut himself off.

Ink tensed, his symbols flashing with color. “Error,” he said, less gently than before, “they took PJ’s _what?”_

Swallowing nervously, Error looked away; his arms crossed over his chest and shoulders hunched defensively. “...I...I made…” Pausing, he defended himself with a snapped out, “We weren’t together yet, okay?! I… fuck, squid, I didn’t-! It was just fucking at first, wasn’t it? B-between you and I, I mean. I didn’t think you-! I wasn’t planning to...to-!” Breathing rapidly, he stepped back, as if expecting Ink to lash out after his next admission. “I didn’t know if you were going to want him,” _want me_ “so I...I made plans. I...” his voice broke, “I made him a baby blanket. F-for-”

“Here.” Reaper finished, crouched in front of the spilled toys. They were all for children. A very, very young child given the soft fabrics and now-cracked baby rattles. “Ru, you…?”

Horror washed over Ink’s face. “You were going to stay. You were going to stay _here_...w-with… with _Paperjam.”_

Error looked away, but didn’t answer. Didn’t need to, really.

Ink reached for him, seeking to comfort his first even with the horror still present in his soul. Trying to at least understand the other’s reasoning, he asked, "R-Ru, what... what plans did you have?”

Error caved in on himself more, murmuring, "I-it do...d-doesn't m-m-matter anymore..." 

_White._ Faint, like a memory, but still clear in Ink’s eyes. "...You were scared, weren’t you?" Scared of being pregnant. Of Ink potentially not wanting- _Oh, Error…_ Gently, Ink's hands cupped Error's face, rubbing soft circles on his cheekbones to soothe the trembling skeleton. 

Still, Error refused to look either of them in they eyes. "Yeah..." he admitted, more than a little ashamed. 

"Why-?"

"You _know_ w-why, Ink!" Error reached out, taking hold of a small, moth-bitten stuffed animal painstakingly hand-crocheted by him years ago. It was a little smiling squid. "...You never bothered lying about your emotions. Back then, you straight up told me that your feelings weren’t natural. That… that everything you felt for me, you _chose_ to feel.

Softly, Ink asked, "Were you scared that I wouldn't try to love our baby...?" 

"I was scared about a lot of things..." Error whispered. “You ended up being happy, but… fuck, what if you chose to stop? What if a baby had been too much effort so you just… didn’t put any in? Into raising PJ, into… i-into loving him…” At Ink’s crumpling expression, he shook his head and briefly pressed their grins together. “I know better now, Inky. I just… back then, I didn’t. So I made stupid plans and I…” Softer, he admitted, “I always kind of regretted not getting to give PJ that blanket. I worked damn hard on it.”

Ink smiled weakly, leaning down to press their foreheads together. “I’m sure you did.”

Reaper inched closer to them when the conversation faded. Careful that they both knew what he was doing, he wrapped his arms around his husbands and held the two close. "What do we do now...?" he asked, hating to add more torment to the atmosphere. "We can't even let Dream know what's going on. O-our..." He stopped burying his face in their shoulders. "Our family..." he stopped there, unable to think of the others at the moment.

"We… we're just going to do what we need to in order to get Geno out of here," Ink murmured. "We don't really have any other options." 

A silence fell over them, no one daring to mention that choices they _did_ actually have: Play Nightmare's fucking game and _hope_ they get Geno back, fight tooth and nail for their freedom…

...Or let Geno die and free themselves...

Nothing about their current drastic situation was funny, but Error found himself laughing anyways. "You want to know something fucked up?" he asked, voice light and conversational. "I almost killed Geno, once."

The way Reaper instinctively tore himself away from Error hurt, but he didn’t let the pain get to him all that much. He understood the reaction, after all.

Back then, the thought of killing Geno… it made sense. His past reasoning was… gods, it was so fucked up but, still, it was reasonable to him at the time.

Now, the idea of what he once considered doing sickened him.

"You-!" Reaper couldn’t even finish getting the rest of the words out. Instead, he backed away further, a look of hurt betrayal in his eyes.

Error looked away, shame eating away at him. The truth was already out there though, so…

Turning to meet Reaper’s stare again, he took a single deep, steadying breath, then a leap of faith. _They… they deserve to know…_ Not everything that went on that day, but at least one of the small parts that matted.

"At the time, I was already a nightmare. Had been for… shit, I don’t really know.” _Long enough to have slept with that asshole._ Short enough to not yet regret it.

Not entirely, at least.

When he paused, neither Ink nor Reaper had anything to say. Seeing this, Error steeled himself and continued. “Ink… You and I weren’t even a thing. Fuck, I wouldn’t even consider it for another…” he shook his head. That didn’t matter at the moment. “The point is that I was a nightmare at the time, and I had a mission. There was… a world. One that kept catching Nightmare’s interest.” Glancing between them, Error sighed. They didn’t seem to get it. “The world was Aftertale.”

Simultaneously, Ink and Reaper breathed in sharp, burning breaths of air; surprise in their eyes. “Geno’s…?” Reaper whispered, subconsciously stepping closer to hear better.

Shuddering, Error nodded. "It… there’s certain places Nightmare looks to when he recruits. Usually, those places are heavily genocide-centric, or… well, or just up straight fucked on their own. Aftertale… it was kind of a mix of the two. Not as warped as places like Horrortale, but still full of misery, even during the moments of peace after every reset.”

Reaper’s voice wavered when he asked, “It… it was Geno keeping that misery alive, wasn’t it?” Even if everything reset, Geno would have still been trapped in the save screen, knowing very well that the peace wouldn’t last. That everyone he was watching through his screen would die soon enough… again.

Again, Error nodded. “Usually, Nightmare does recruitments himself, but the one time he tried _Sans_ said no. Didn’t seem to understand what he was going on about, apparently. The genocides, being forced to watch his brother die time and time again… Nightmare said he was horrified, but not like someone who lived through the events should have been. Still, he wanted another member, so he sent me for the next attempt. I…” He paused.

“You…?”

“...I got lost. Kind of. When I went to teleport to Aftertale, I… I missed? Got pushed off target? I… fuck, I really don’t know why, but I ended up in the save screen instead of the world. If I’m being honest, I have no clue how _I_ ended up there by mistake, but Nightmare didn’t. Shit, the save screen was _full_ of everything that asshole survives off of: Fear, hatred… despair. It was so thick, you could probably could have seen the negativity… had it not been nearly impossible to see _anything_ in that dark hellhole, I mean.” Eyes hazing slightly with a past memory, Error murmured, “All that darkness… fuck, no wonder Geno has problems with the dark. He only had that one light to fight it off. He was under that light when I ended up there.”

“...And you wanted to kill him?” Ink murmured, frowning at the faded colors swirling around Error from whatever memory he was recalling. Red, no surprise there, but black too. And… and blue. _Why were you sad, back then…?_

Error looked away. “Of all people, _you_ know how bad my thing with glitches and abomination was, Ink. He… Geno was everything I hated.”

That… that was a lie. Not entirely, though. No, Error’s words… they were a half truth. One that Ink couldn’t pick the lie from. “You didn’t kill him.” He said, always one to act as Captain Obvious. “Why?”

"...There were a lot of reasons, Ink.” Some, Error couldn’t bring himself to share. Not when certain secrets of the past just weren’t his to blab. “Mostly, I… I guess he proved himself to me. He was… look, it’s fucking mean but he was pathetic when I first laid eyes on him. Tired, short, defeated… he was so damn weepy that just looking at him-! Fuck, it annoyed me. But…” Absentmindedly, he rubbed his jaw. “Shit, he packed one hell of a punch. Geno… he looked seconds away from keeling over and giving up on everything, but when I attacked he faced me with a determination to live that I didn’t think he had. Heh, he said-”

 _"I die when I say I die,"_ Reaper quoted, creeping closer with a pained look in his eyes. "He... he said that to me, once..."

"I respected it." Error murmured, silently thankful for the second pair of arms that returned to hold him as well as Ink. "Halfway through fighting, I realized… I was having fun. I kept landing more hits than Geno, but he never stayed down. No matter how many attacks I blocked, no matter how much blood he shed… the fire in his eye never died out. It was a challenge.” Chuckling a bit, he admitted, “It was impr- kind of amazing. When we eventually stopped, I gave him the spiel was I was supposed to, but I… I didn’t make it convincing.” _I didn’t want him to become a nightmare._ “After that, I just… kept stopping by when I needed that reminder. Kept coming around. Got him out a few times too, though he always insisted on going back. First, out of responsibility for the world he was still trying to save, then..." he smiled slightly, "Because he had something to wait there for. His eyes slid to Reaper. " _Someone_ to wait for."

When Reaper blinked, tears slid down his sockets. "Me...?"

"You." Error softly confirmed. "I...stars, I really was going to do it at first though, you know? I was really going to kill him. I _wanted_ to, once. And… and it’s funny, isn’t it? That I wanted it so badly at first back then, because… " tears spilled down his own face, “Because now? I can't even stand the fucking thought of him being hurt. Because he isn’t just some glitch now. He’s my _brother_ , guys, and he's- fuck, he’s in danger." His voice broke with his next words, " And I don't know what to fucking _do_. He's going to-! He… he could-!" he couldn't say it. Didn't dare to, as if voicing his worry would cause it to happen. "Guys, we _need_ to play Nightmare's games _perfectly_. If… if we want to keep Geno safe, we can’t fuck up.”

They held Error closer, the three of them trembled. "Perfectly...?" Ink murmured uncertainly. 

"We... w-we _cannot_ afford to make mistakes." 

Reaper rested his forehead on the artist's head, eyes closed. He couldn’t think of anything to say that could possibly make things better, so he stayed quiet, simply offering what comfort he could through his embrace. Eventually; however, he shifted, glancing at the clock when the thick silence dragged on and on. “...We should get to bed soon…”

Ink nodded in agreement, though the mess of boxes gave him pause. "Do you want us to help you set the room up again...?" 

Error roughly shook his head. "No. No I... **we** aren't staying. There’s no point in getting too comfortable." 

_We may not have a choice..._ The three of them thought of it, but none of them felt brave enough to say it. 

Slowly, Reaper retreated from them. “Let’s just move things out of the way for now. Then, we can try to get some sleep."

The last thing Error wanted to do was sleep. Not after all the nights he woke up in terror because he dreamt he was in the hellhole they were all trapped in now.

 _I'm out, I'm out,_ he'd say, choking on the words as he gasped and cried.

Tomorrow morning, he wouldn't be able to comfort himself with those words.

"Yeah," he whispered, "sleep sounds good."


	41. Meet Cute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which "why can't we be friends?" plays in the background.

Reaper and Ink woke, tangled in each other's arms. Ink glanced around, bleary-eyed for what woke them up, finding a highly unfamiliar room- 

Error dropped down from a string nest he built in the middle of the night, walking to the alarm that startled the other two awake. "C'mon..." he murmured to them. "Cross should be coming by to _escort_ us to Nightmare..." 

Solemnly, the three of them started to move. They numbly put on some of the clothes from the dresser, finding with fear how _well_ the loose-fitting material actually fit.

 _The larger bed, the fitting clothes_... Ink shuddered, his arms coming around to hold himself as fear chilled him. _Just how much planning went into this?_

"Inky-" Reaper began only for three sharp knocks to still his words.

"Right on time..." Error murmured, lifting his eyes and catching sight of a familiar face through the hole stabbed through his door so long ago. "Enter," he commanded, briefly losing himself to nostalgia.

Rather than correct his tone, Cross opened the door; expression and eyes both blank with an edge of ice. "You followed your first set of orders, I see. Good." Cross said, forgoing pleasantries, "Nightmare wants you in the throne room in less than five minutes. That's generous of him, so let's not disappoint by being late. Single file, no touching. Let's go."

The god and the artist exchanged glances. Both tended to be clingy, the first for reasons related to his job and the second because he enjoyed the sparkles of pink that resulted from the innocent action. 

This...

Ink dropped his gaze first, deciding to be the last one to follow them out. If they were going to follow Nightmare's orders perfectly... the artist shoved his hands into the shallow pockets of the pants. _Stars, even the length was exactly right_... It made him feel like the lord of darkness took tape measures to each of them. 

_He **hated** that_.... 

The three followed Cross at a brisk pace, making it to the throne room right on time. At Cross's direction, they stood side-by-side, just inches apart. But with the no-touching command, those inches felt like miles of cold, muggy darkness.

As Cross took his place to the right of the empty throne and his footsteps fade into silence, the three found that the lack of sound in the large throne room make the small yet drastic space between them worse. No voices, no outside noises creeping in... just silence barely broken by the sound of their breathing, reminding them that they're close, but somehow so damn _far._

When doors open and Nightmare walks in, they're almost relieved if only for the way his voice tears the quiet to shreds. "Impressive," he praised, steps slow but loud as he stalks up to his throne, "I half expected you all to be late. Shame, I was hoping you'd forget to set your alarm."

 _He wanted us to fuck up_. It’s not a surprise, but it made Error bristle. He knows better than anyone here how terrible the consequences of doing so could be. Not for them, but for his brother.

"Oh well," Nightmare sighed, "there's always tomorrow. For now, let's get to our first order of business: Rules. Cross, tell our new and newly returned members what's expected of them."

Stepping forward, the white and black clad skeleton cleared his throat. When he spoke, his voice gave new meaning to the word monotone, "As you were informed of yesterday, you are expected to stay within the confines of the hallway your room is located in. Food and supplies will be restocked at the end of every week, so there shouldn't be a need for you to leave the hall. If you do, it'll be due to Nightmare's orders and with an escort from either myself or the other members. 

“No weapons are to be used outside of the training room and missions. No conflict is to be started by your group. If another member bothers you, handle it as an adult. If and _only_ if they put your lives in danger, then you have permission to defend yourselves, but your actions will be reviewed to ensure the self defense was actually needed.

“Any or all of these rules are subject to change. If they are, or if more rules are added, then you will be notified."

"Cross." Nightmare pressed, eye narrowed at his second. "You're forgetting something."

Bowing his head in a silent apology, the ex guard thought over his mental list before adding, somewhat confusedly, "No coffee. It's been removed from your kitchen area."

Simultaneously, Reaper twitched and Ink opened his mouth to ask why, but Error cut in, "Understood." 

_Fuck..._

"Any questions?" Nightmare tilted his head slightly. 

"Laundry...?" Ink asked. "There aren't machines in the hall." 

Cross answered, "We do have a laundry station that will also be used once a week. If, for any reason you need to do laundry sooner, there is the associated detergent in the bathroom. You'll have to hand wash it yourself." 

The artist dropped his gaze to the floor, murmuring, "Understood." 

Nightmare turned his eye on the god. "Questions?" 

_Is Geno okay...? Can we see him? Why did you take the coffee away? What are you going to have us do..?!_ "No," Reaper shook his head slightly. 

"No, _what_ , god." 

Reaper glared at the space between his feet. "No, sir." 

Nightmare raised his chin slightly, observing the god. "...Better."

When Nightmare fell into silence, Cross took the unspoken cue and turned back to the trio. The fact that he was speaking in place of Nightmare said a lot on its own, but Error wasn't certain the silent message got through to his husbands. _You're all beneath me,_ it said. 

"These rules are nonnegotiable. Any and all issues you may have involving them will be kept to yourselves. For the moment, that is all when concerning the rules. Nightmare will be assigning your mission now."

Seeing them all tense brought a smile to Nightmare's face. "Be glad, nightmares. We're starting small today." Absentmindedly, he slid a hand into his pocket. "See, the others have been informed of your presence, but I'm afraid they're a little...untrusting. I've reassured them that you three are nothing but loyal, but..." shrugging, he pulled his hand free. Hanging from his fingers was a single, burnt strand of red fabric tied around three familiar rings. "Well, they're a bit wary. So, you three are going to break the ice."

_Geno's-!_

.....

Nightmare watched them closely, socket narrowed as he tapped a finger against one of the bands. _Well…?_ the look said, his demand going unvoiced but not unheard.

Glancing at each other, they could see the restrained anger and fear in each set of sockets. For Ink, it was worse. He wanted to _rebel-_ But.... he dropped his gaze to the rings he had. The blue streaked one from Error. The soft rose-gold one from Geno. The black one from Reaper. 

_Even if we don't have the rings, we're still loyal to each other. We still belong to each other. It's... it's just a symbolic representation of our love, but it doesn't mean that love is going to fade..._

Reaper and Error exchanged glances, apparently coming to the same conclusion their artist husband did. Slowly, but nearly at the same time, the three of them slipped off their rings, holding them in their palms as if to try and remember the weight and details of each of them before Cross came by and collected them. 

Cross focused on the task in their hands and didn't look them in the sockets.

Smirking, Nightmare beckoned Cross closer and took the rings into his hand. “That’s better.” He said with a chuckle, testing the weight of the bundle of important metal before carelessly pocketing them. “No pesky rings, no mistaking who you _really_ tied yourselves to. Now, back to business.”

 _You don’t own us._ Reaper thought, burning sockets on the ground. If he didn’t have to look at Nightmare, then keeping a handle on his emotions would be easier. “You... you said you want us to break the ice...?”

Nightmare’s hummed, “Yes. Introduce yourselves to the other members. A simple enough introductory ‘mission’. Oh,” he smiled, “though I should add that I expect no conflict to occur during your introductions. No sappy comments, no violence... just behavior befitting those of your status.”

 _There’s...there’s something else to this, isn’t there?_ Ink thought, eyes on Nightmare but true focus on the sense of dread he felt from his first.

Error’s expression was blank as he watched the skeleton on the throne. _He’s throwing Killer and Horror at us. Those two..._ Killer was arguably worse, but they both had the ability to draw your ire within seconds, just in different ways. _Fuck, this isn’t a mission. It’s a test. He wants to see how long we can handle those two without fucking up._

For some reason, Ink felt like Nightmare was throwing a bunch of dogs together and expecting them to get along without a proper one-on-one introduction... he forced resolve to settle in his bones. _Fine, you asshole. I'll play._ He glanced between Reaper and Error, wishing he could share his determination and his calm with them somehow... 

Reaper met his gaze. Though unreadable to Nightmare, Ink had practice enough to see the worry under his sockets. A dull purple throbbing was starting at the center of his forehead too, but it was easily ignored for the moment with the more pressing problem at hand. 

Ink tried to meet Error's sockets, but his first was watching between Cross and Nightmare, the anxious dread still seeping from his bones. 

Nightmare nodded to Cross, and his new second left the room to gather the other nightmares.

Still fiddling with the single set of rings strung together by that burnt red strip of cloth, Nightmare observed them; smiling. 

“You know...” he eventually said, breaking the tense silence with those two trailing words. “Since we have a bit of time before Cross manages to wrangle up the other three, why don’t we chat?” No answer, but the silence only seemed to please him more. “Oh, so you want me to begin? Very well.”

 _Just shut the fuck up_ , Error silently urged, sockets narrowed as he watched Nightmare’s every move. In hindsight, the stifling silence from before was definitely better than hearing that low, smug voice.

“What to say, what to say...?” Nightmare murmured. As he thought, the rings in his hand clanked to together, drawing his attention. “Oh, there’s an interesting subject. Dear little Genocide.”

Reaper tensed, glaring eyes boring a hole into the ground. With his gaze lowered, he missed the way his other husbands reacted to the name; Ink with rapid symbols flying through his sockets and Error with trembling clenched hands.

“He didn’t want to give these up, you know?” As if there were any question about what ‘these’ were, he motioned to the rings. “I thought convincing him to hand them over would be easy with just how _docile_ he was, but I was wrong. For someone who cries so much, he’s surprisingly... Hmm, how should I say this...?” After a moment of thought, he smirked. “Vicious. I wasn’t all that pleased when he tried to kick me, but I’ll admit... his fire was rather attractive.”

Slowly, his gaze slid across the three before him; hot and heavy and foul with the sexual intent behind the look. 

Nightmare sighed, “Still such a shame that his looks don’t match his personality. Cracked ribs, a nasty scar...that hideous socket? They say one man’s trash is another’s treasure, but I still would have preferred my interest being caught by something better than broken goods.”

"Better broken goods than a leaking faucet-" Ink murmured to himself, before freezing and forcing his gaze down as his husbands tensed. 

Nightmare's gaze bore into Ink. "Mind repeating that a bit louder? After all, this is a _conversation_ , not a monologue." 

_D-dammit squid...! C-can we not even get through day one...?!_

Ink cleared his voice, speaking louder, "I said he's not broken goods, unlike a leaking faucet." 

Slowly, Nightmare chuckled, "Indeed, though I wonder why you're not meeting my gaze anymore? Have you accepted your obedience to me like the god has?"

Reaper bit back a threatening trill, though it was harder than he cared to admit. _Obedience-!_

He was a _god_. He was _death!_ He didn’t bow to the will of others!

But he did. He _will_ , because the alternative would result in something unforgivable; a loss that Reaper wasn’t sure he could ever handle. 

Shivering with the intensity of his husband’s emotions, Ink quietly murmured, “...Yes.” Because that’s what Nightmare wanted to hear. 

A knock on the door cut into the conversation before Nightmare could gloat. With the command to enter given, Cross stepped into the throne room with three skeletons trailing behind him.

Somehow, the artist was able to tell who was who. He heard the four footsteps, knowing the first had to be Cross though he couldn't feel anything from him. The second had to be Killer, what with the glee he felt and the sound of a swishing blade. The last was End. That anger, though intensified now, was mingled with a betrayal that was expected when Ink felt the Pap's gaze settle on him. Which meant the third was Horror. Indifferent, tired, surprised to see Error, but only slightly. 

Error met each of their gazes. The nostalgia of commanding three of those four skeletons washed over him, but the knowledge of End's past and Cross' silent conviction to be the new second made that nostalgia sour. 

"We-e-e-ell," Killer chuckled, "A little late, but welcome **home** , Error!"

Withholding a sigh, the reinstated destroyer met the empty, seeping sockets of his old ally. “Killer.” His eyes flicked to the side. “Horror.” One more glance over, yet the destroyer hesitated. “Newbie, I assume.”

The Papyrus stiffened. Although his face was better suited for kindness, an anger filled his expression. “Endure, _Destroyer.”_ he corrected, voice iced with hate.

“Oooh,” Killer staged whispered, “looks like someone has _history_ with our pal!”

Cross shot Killer a look that went completely ignored. Reaper glanced up at Error's greeting, sockets steady on the Papyrus. Hearing Ink move, his attention switched to the artist. He'd taken a step towards End, a hesitant expression on his face. 

Unfortunately, Endure saw the movement, and that baleful gaze turned on him, seeming to increase. Ink flinched at the near literal heat from Endure's rage. "Artist," he nearly growled. 

Because he wasn't worthy of the Protector title in End's eyes. And with the loss of that title was the loss of trust and hope he'd put into the skeleton who'd had that title. So why even call him by his actual name? 

"End..." Ink tried to sound like he didn't care. He tried to make it look like it didn't hurt. Like the memories of **pain** and being ripped apart and hearing his own laughter distorted by Nightmare wasn't racing through his head. To End, he probably succeeded. Hell, to Killer and Horror too. 

But the others knew. 

It was in the slight curl of his shoulders. His wavering symbols. The way the name hesitated on his tongue. His fingers twitching between reaching for the paintbrush on his back or the skeletons by him. 

Instead, Ink tried again, letting a somewhat worried smile on his face as he watched End, "You... you seem to be doing well...?" 

"No thanks to you." 

"R-right..."

Attempting to hide his emotions from Ink was pointless, Error knew. Dream-Stars, _Dream... their_ Dream, who barely had a day to be theirs...

He gave Error the perfect advice to keep his feelings to himself, but with everything going on he never thought to practice. Never _tried_ , really. At the moment, he wished he had put in the effort to conceal himself because he knew the next, small flinch Ink made his because of the pity the artist can feel.

In some ways, he and his first were very similar. Disliking pity was one of those similarities, but he couldn’t help it.

 _Nightmare had **days** to twist the Aftertale events in his favor. Maybe more_, he knows. Whatever companionship Ink hoped may linger in the Papyrus’ heart had likely been destroyed long, long ago and Ink’s wish for kindness, for friendship, would only be met with hate. _Nightmare wants it to hurt, Inky. He wants you to know you failed..._

Killer’s smirk widened, a telltale sign he was about to make the tense, cold atmosphere between End and Ink worse.

Error cut in before it could happen, “Do you all really need a damn ice breaker from _me?_ You know who the fuck I am.” A little rough, but close to how he used to speak. _Familiar_. Hopefully, enough for Nightmare to give his attitude some leeway.

Horror, though looking bored, narrowed his sockets at him. "Do we? How long has it been since you were home? What, are you the Knitter now? Or would it be Patch?" 

"I don't remember you talking so much at once Horror." 

"Funny, I don't remember _you_ preaching about going against your nature, yet here we are," Horror glanced pointedly at Ink, then to Reaper. 

Killer sneered, "Surely he hasn't stopped _destroying_ , Horror? He's got two pussies right there." 

"Hm, yes, it was quite nice," Ink spoke drily, flicking his gaze to Killer before Reaper's growing ire could ruin the exchange. Though those words made the god pause and the faintest light touch his colors. 

Horror laughed at Killer's sputtering. _He wasn't supposed to **agree** he was supposed to be offended!_ Killer growled. 

The attention was turned away when Endure nodded to Reaper. "Who're you?" 

"Death," came Reaper's soft reply. 

"..." the three nightmares exchanged glances.

“Problem?” Reaper questioned in a low, quiet murmur. He was smiling, but the expression was as empty as his light-less eyes. 

Killer bristled, hearing words behind Reaper’s question that the god didn’t intend. _Are you afraid?_ “Death? Like the literal fucking Grim Reaper? That fucker?”

A slight smirk broke Reaper’s emotionless smile. “I suppose, though ‘fucker’ is an interesting choice of words after what you implied with your comment to Error.”

Killer turned his empty glare to Nightmare. "Boss! What the hell!" 

Nightmare turned a raised eyebrow on the skeleton. "Something wrong?" 

"How the fuck do you expect us to work with _literal death?!"_

_"You'll manage," he shrugged._

_Horror and Killer exchanged glances. _If he comes on missions with us, we won't get to do anything fun....__

_Endure found himself observing the husbands closely, wondering how his- how _Geno_ had fit in with these three. _

_Error crossed his arms, standing straighter. _Are we done yet?_ the pose asked. _

_Cross raised an eyebrow just slightly. There didn't seem to be any outright hostility. Well, besides with Endure. But even Killer's nudging to try and get the three riled up didn't seem to work yet. It wasn't surprising that Horror didn't have much energy to try and start anything yet. He sent a sideways glance at Nightmare._

_Nightmare... wasn't easy to read. Pleased that the six _did_ seem to get along so he wouldn't have to think too much about potential problems in the future? Angry that there wouldn't be potential problems to punish the husbands over? Consideration as he started to alter whatever plans he hadn't shared yet? _

__Perhaps all three...?_ _

__"So you haven't attacked us," Horror spoke up to the three before turning his attention to Nightmare. "That doesn't say anything for the future. You want us all to be nightmares? How are we supposed to trust that these assholes aren't going to turn on us? Error's done it once before, and Ink's done nothing _but_ oppose us. You're telling me that they just up and agreed to join you, bringing the god with them? I don't believe it." _ _

__"Hmm..." Nightmare turned his gaze to the husbands, his smile poisonous, "They have a certain _incentive_ to follow my commands."_ _

__"Doesn't really inspire a lot of _trust_ , Boss," Killer muttered. Moments later, a gleam seemed to shine in his sockets. "Say... can I _play_ with one of them?" _ _

__Error stiffened, well aware of just what Killer’s idea of _fun_ was. “I thought the purpose of this little meeting was to break the ice, not our _bones?_ ”_ _

__“C’mon, Error. You know me better than that, don’t you? Breaking bones?” With a flourish, Killer withdrew his favorite blade and waved it at them cheerfully. “I prefer _slicing._ Slashing, cutting, slitting-”_ _

__Reaper’s interested hum kept him from continuing. “If you’re so interested in such things, perhaps you’d like a closer look at my work?” he murmured, eyes unfriendly where his smile was warm. “I do quite a bit of that with _my_ blades, you see. I’d be more than happy to show you.”_ _

__Taking a small step back, Killer turned to Nightmare like a scorned child seeking aid from a parent. “Was that a threat? Night, I’m pretty sure that was a threat!”  
_It was definitely a threat…_ Ink thought, well aware of the dark, angry colors around the god when the words were spoken. _Reaps, hon, what are you doing?__ _

__Nightmare, sensing the same negativity Ink could see, knew what Reaper meant by his words as well. Luckily, he seemed open to letting their small mistakes slide for the moment, as with Ink’s earlier snide comment. “Now, now. Settle down, you two. We’re supposed to be making friends, not enemies. That’s what this is all about.”_ _

__Horror tilted his head in Nightmare’s direction, acknowledging the words even as he kept his overblown eyelight on Reaper. “...I dunno, boss. Hard to make friends with the _buddy_ who betrayed you all to go shacking up with _the enemy._ I’m a sensitive soul, you know? Error leaving us like that hurt.”_ _

___Sensitive soul my ass,_ Error inwardly growled, stepping forward to bring Horror’s attention off of Reaper and onto himself. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sure you were in _tears_ when I left.”_ _

__“Practically broke my heart.” Horror murmured, earning himself a disgruntled look from the dripping eyed skeleton at his side. “To be honest, I’m surprised you’re even back. I really do wonder what that _incentive_ is… Power? No, not with the beds you’re warming. There’s gotta be something else?” Taking a step closer, Horror smiled at them; wide and _excited._ “You know what? I think I actually won’t mind having you three here. Don’t trust you, but… like Kills, I. think I’d like getting a chance to _play_ together.”_ _

__Ink nearly startled at Error’s rush of dread. _Why does that worry him more than Killer saying it…?__ _

__When Nightmare stepped in, Error’s dread only grew, knowing that the king coming to their aid would only interest Horror more. “That’s enough, Horror. Their reasons for obeying are of no concern of yours. For now, why not head to the kitchens with Endure? These three will be joining us for dinner for the unforeseeable future.”_ _

__“Why?” Endure questioned, voice pitched up in a slight whining complaint. “Do they not have a kitchen in their assigned area?”_ _

__“They do,” Nightmare confirmed, “but what’s the point of _family_ dinner if all of us aren’t there? We’ve had a decent start today. Sharing meals will be an excellent way of increasing our bonds, don’t you all agree?” When everyone nodded begrudgingly, he smirked and waved them all away. “Horror, Endure. Go get started on the meal. Cross, take our new members back to their room. And Killer?”_ _

__“Yeah?”_ _

__“ _Behave._ You’re not to enter their quarters unless ordered.”_ _

__“Boring.” Killer grumbled, but nodded his understanding when given a stern look from the king of the castle._ _

__“Any questions?” At the silence he was given in response, Nightmare nodded. “Good. Dismissed.”_ _

__The willing nightmares were the first to leave with Killer the last of the trio to pass through the door. With them gone, Cross turned to the husbands and motioned for them to follow him, which they did obediently._ _

__Just before they reached the door, Nightmare called out, “See you later, _friends,_ ” in a mocking, cheerful tone of voice._ _

___Asshole…_ _ _


	42. Awkward Family Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we learn that awkward family dinners really _can_ take place outside of holidays!

By the time Cross came to collect them for dinner, Ink was clinging to the both of them with drooping eyes and Reaper would've murdered somebody for some caffeine. He had found some tea in the cupboard but... 

_He tasted the leaf water and gagged. Error looked to him, frowning. Still, the packaging said it wasn't decaffeinated, so shuddering, Reaper chugged the whole thing. The relief was...._

_Not as much as he was hoping for._

And stars, Reaper hated tea... there wasn't enough caffeine or sugar or flavor to the blasted substance! Except for one very rare form of sweet iced tea but none of that was in stock in their little kitchen area. 

So when Cross knocked and entered, Reaper couldn't help but squint at him. Error helped nudge the two up to their feet, and Ink was barely standing awake. 

Nodding slightly in approval of the new, clean clothes, Cross murmured, "Dinner will be served in just a few minutes. Follow me. Again, single-file, no talking, no touching." He turned and left. 

Ink glanced to Error, wanting to keep his jacket on, but knowing it wasn't a good idea. He passed it back and followed Cross first this time. The flashbacks had long faded, though the feelings and sensations persisted. 

On the silent walk to the dining room, Ink decided, _I won't let them know if I get another flashback. It isn't going to help us right now, so they don't need to know..._

Before the uncertainty of his decision could grow any longer, they were led around a corner and into a hall with a great pair of double doors awaiting them at the end. Similar to those of the throne room, but stylized with subtle differences. Clearly, the king of the castle liked the dramatic look of the oversized entrances. Briefly, Ink wondered if every important room had them.

It took him half a second to decide he didn't really care.

As they neared the doors, Cross' pace slowed. Without uttering a word, he lifted a hand in a silent command for them to still. 

_Annoyance, resignation..._ but none of them were from Cross.

They were from _Error._

Whatever was going on, it was something familiar enough that the destroyer recognized whatever was about to happen, but... _but what? Knows he can't stop it? By why the annoyance then...?_

"When I open the doors," Cross whispered, _"duck."_

With that, he pushed the heavy double doors open and threw himself to the ground. Without hesitation, Error followed suit and reached out with his threads to pull his husbands down with him when Reaper and Ink let their confusion stall them.

Four knives cut across the air, their paths slicing through the empty space all of their heads had been.

Seated an expensive, massive table, Killer booed, "C'mon! I didn't hit _any_ of you?"

Horror grinned from his side, "10g for every miss. You owe me 40."

"Fuuuuuuck."

Reaper and Ink exchanged glances, both with slightly wider eyes than normal. Error rolled his lights in his sockets and straightened with Cross first. "You still _catch_ better than you _toss,"_ the destroyer grumbled. 

"Killer, what have we said countless times about your knives?" Cross stepped in.

"Ohh _boo hoo_. **My** knives cut better than these fucking _butter knives_ ," Killer scowled, passing 40g to Horror, who counted it with a widening grin and pocketed the money. 

Endure glanced at Killer. "I think it was more to keep your knives specialized-" 

_"Listen,_ buddy. My knives can cut through anything. I don't care about some disease spreading bullshit you all keep spouting at me." 

Reaper slid his gaze away, a soft, "Make _my_ job easier..." escaping his breath. 

A knife flew past his face, embedding itself in the wall. Slowly, Reaper turned his gaze to bore holes into Killer. "Wanna repeat that louder, pal?" Killer growled. 

"ENOUGH," Cross snapped. "This is _not_ play time, it's _dinner_. You want to spar with them? Ask Night _after_. I see another one of your knives flying, I'll melt them all down into a chastity belt for you to wear. Understood?" 

After a surprised silence, Killer pouted, "Yes, _mom,"_ and glanced away slightly. Though he shot wicked grins at the husbands when Cross half-turned back to them.

"I saw that." Cross growled, though it wasn't true. 

Killer knew it, too. "Bullshit! There was no way you did." he shouted, expression twisted in annoyance. Childishly, he stuck his tongue out and raised a knife, the blade aimed in Cross' direction.

Without turning back to face his would-be attacker, Cross motioned for the trio of husbands to take a seat of their choosing from the three set out across from Killer, Horror, and Endure. Back still turned and voice bland, he said, "Throw that at me and I _will_ follow through on my threat with the belt" before taking his own seat at one end of the table.

Killer lowered the knife with a scowl. "I'm calling bullshit again."

The black and white skeleton didn't seem to care. "Call whatever you want. Just know that it won't be Horror's name anytime soon if you don't stop causing trouble with those damn knives."

Sputtering, Killer flipped the knife in hand shut and shoved it into his pocket. "How do-"

Error cringed slightly, _Shit, **that's** still a thing? We'll never get any fucking sleep if those two are still going at it at night._

At the sight of Error's subtle reaction, Cross' grin twitched. "I have my ways,"

Endure felt heat rising in his cheeks, and it was everything in him to try and not correct Killer's and Cross' foul words at the table. An old habit that... with his brother and those stupid puns- 

Ink found himself watching the Papyrus before fully realizing _why_. Endure met his gaze, and the angry expression came back full-force. 

Reaper and Error sat on either side of Ink, as if to try and protect him from whatever else might come at him, but aside from the somewhat hurt expression from Endure's continued anger at him, the artist seemed to be fine. 

Cross glanced down the line at the husbands. "We start when Nightmare comes in and gives the word." 

Error's gaze flicked to him, somewhat surprised. It... used to be after Nightmare sat down. Now he has to _verbally_ say something? Was this for _all_ of them..? 

Well, whatever dinner lay beneath the covers on their plates, it at least _smelled_ good....

Then again, if Horror was one of the two cooking, that wasn't all that much of a surprise. Out of all of them, the skeleton sporting the head injury was the best cook. His reasoning was sad, but an effective motivation for producing an excellent chef.

_I just hope there's no 'special touches' this time._ Although, the memory of Cross screaming because he found an eye in his food was-

_"Pfft!"_

Like vultures drawn in by the scent of decay, the willing nightmares all turned their eyes to Error at the sound of poorly restrained laughter.

The harder he tried to restrain the laughter, the wider his grin became, until he was trying to hide it behind a hand. "Somethin' funny?" Killer narrowed his sockets. 

With that, Error let loose his wild laughter and shook his head. "Any new additions, Horror?" 

Horror took a minute to respond, being slightly surprised at the question in such a familiar tone. But the memory that surfaced for Error seemed to crop up in Cross', Horror's, and Killer's minds at the same time, since the two turned eyes to the new second, slow grins on their faces. Cross narrowed his sockets on Error. "Sure you wanna do this right now? I have _plenty_ of-" He cut himself off, glancing to a door as Nightmare opened it and stepped through.

Reaper's heart sank. He knew his hope was pointless, but still... he couldn't help it. He just- he thought... 

Swallowing a disappointed sound, the god turned his eyes to his covered plate and bowed his head. At his side, Ink frowned slightly, tired eyes sneaking a worried look at Reaper. Without having to ask, he knew the reason behind the deep, depressed blue starting to surround the god.

Nightmare was alone. And with everyone at the table...

That meant that, wherever he being held, _Geno_ was alone too.

Ink glanced down at his food, the delicious scent seeping through the cover only serving to worsen his nausea. _Stars, has anyone fed him? **Is** anyone going to feed him?_ In his exhausted state, the question leap from his thoughts to his mouth where he unthinkingly blurted, "You're feeding Geno too, right?"

Nightmare paused, his hand hovering over the back of his chair as he halted in pulling his seat back. "Pardon?" he asked almost pleasantly.

Shuddering slightly at the panic on either side of him that only served to amplify his own, Ink snapped his mouth shut and bowed his head; praying that the apologetic motion would be enough to soothe whatever ire his question stirred.

It wasn't enough. "Come now, artist." Nightmare purred, resuming his previous action and pulling his seat from the table so that he could sit and lord over them all. "None of that submissive nonsense. At least, not _now_. Repeat your question. Tell me what it is you wanted to know."

"Is-"

"Look me in the eye when you speak."

Steadying himself the best he could, Ink lifted his head and met the gaze of the lord of despair. "You're feeding Geno, right?" _You're not starving him behind our backs?_

Pleased with his obedience, Nightmare smirked. "No need to fret, artist. He'll have a meal delivered soon enough. In fact, I was thinking about keeping him company as he eats. Hmmm, perhaps I'll even offer a bit of _dessert."_ That taunting white smirk grew. "He deserves it, I think. You see," his voice lowered sensually, _"he's being so good for me."_

It was hard. **So** hard. To keep from leaping across everyone's plates just to strangle him. The artist's emotions blew past panic and straight into rage. 

But barely managing was still managing. 

He looked back to his plate, _knowing_ Nightmare felt every bit of the emotions he couldn't hide. Feeling the hint of anger from Reaper, but overwhelmed by the dizzying purple caffeine-induced headache. 

_There were literal stars in his vision..._

Nightmare looked out at the rest of them. "So, everyone made it on time? And they're bathed and in their proper clothes?" A confirming nod from Cross, and Nightmare smiled wider. "Good." His gaze slid to Killer and Horror, then to Endure. At the opposite side of the table, he was amused to see Error next to him, then the artist then the god. "Error?" he started pleasantly, "How's your first day home been so far?"

Killer cut in with a groan, "C'mon, Nighty, do we really have to do this? I'm hungry!"

Nightmare's pleasant grin tensed. "Killer."

One softly spoken word and the empty, leaking eyed skeleton fell silent. 

"So," Nightmare said, completely ignoring the now docile troublemaker in favor of turning back to Error, "do you have an answer for me, _old friend?"_

_How the fuck does this shithead expect me to answer?!_ Error met his gaze steadily. "...the pillows are new," a glance to Cross and Endure, "and a few things have changed." 

"Nice observations, but how are you _enjoying_ it? Aren't you happy to be home?" 

_Home home home, this gothic shithole is **not** my home._ But he put on a hint of his wild grin and shrugged. "Too soon to say." 

"Hmmm... another neutral response...? Though I suppose you're right." His eyes flicked to Ink and Reaper. "And you two? How are you enjoying your new home?"

_New home, new home, new home..._ the words kept echoing in Ink's head. "It's..." _not my fucking home_ "...a new experience, I suppose." he mumbled, unaware of just how closely his thoughts echoed Error's.

Nightmare raised a brow. "And...?"

"...It's thrilling..." _In all the worst ways._

Accepting the answer for now, Nightmare turned to Reaper next, an expectant smile on his face. "And you, god? What answer do you have to give?"

_This place is more fucking depressing than my house ever was._ And, as Death, that was saying a lot. "It's familiar." _You decorate like a funeral home._ "That's... comforting, in a way."

Apparently pleased, Nightmare hummed and scooted his chair closer like an eager child before a sundae. He looked across the table, meeting every nightmare's eyes, before smiling wider. "I suppose we're all hungry?" At the varying nods across the table, he chuckled, "Then let's eat." 

Almost before he could finish his words, Killer had removed the top to his plate, brandishing a fork and a knife in each hand. The others removed the covers a little slower, but once the covers were off- 

_Stars, that smelled so good..._

Error looked to his plate, seeing the thin sliced and smoked meats, the buttered veggies, the slightly soggy toast. _It wouldn't have been if Nightmare didn't stall this long_... Meeting the cook's gaze across the table, Error caught a glimpse of Horror's sadness and annoyance, before pride gleamed in his sockets. 

Even soggy, he knew it would taste good. 

Cross looked to his own plate, releasing a silent sigh that there didn't seem to be a special prank in his food. At least, none that was visible.

"Don't worry," Horror grinned, _"eye_ didn't add anything special, this time."

Absentmindedly, Cross nodded in acknowledgement of his friend's claim. Then, he froze, a forkful of meat halfway to his mouth. "Horror..." his sockets narrowed, "that better _just_ be a pun."

The bloodied skeleton grinned wider, but chose to keep his comments to himself. To make it clear that Cross' pointed stare wouldn't work on him, he scooped up some of his meal and shoved it in his mouth. If Cross wanted a response, then he'd have to deal with getting one around a mouthful of food.

"Idiots," Error muttered, watching the exchange as he ate. 

Nightmare chuckled, "Come now, Error. They're just having fun." Beneath the table, a slick limb curled around Error's ankle. "We used to banter like that too, remember?"

Error tensed. "Yeah, I do." _You'd punish me for every damn thing I would say during that banter. You'd punish me **worse** if I didn't join in._ It had been a lose-lose situation he learned to deal with.

Ink's gaze flicked to Nightmare briefly, having felt the tendril as a phantom around his own ankle. Just as quickly, he dropped his gaze to his food. He layered the meat onto the toast, then set some veggies up top and took a bite. 

Killer was staring with disgust. "You're supposed to eat them separate." 

Ink finished his bite and licked his teeth, staring back. "Why? It all compliments each other so well, I couldn't resist." 

_"No,"_ Killer pointed his fork at Ink, narrowing his sockets, "You eat the meat with the toast, that's _fine_ , but the veggies? No. You gotta eat those either before or after. Not with!" 

Endure paused on the other side of Horror, glancing to Ink. Feeling it, Ink glanced back, and they took a second to observe the other- 

_And how they were eating dinner the exact same way._

Killer glanced between the two before doing a double-take on End. "Seriously?! Come on!" 

"Hot take," Reaper murmured, showing Killer his meat-wrapped veggies.

Color erupted all across Killer's face as his skull overheated with disgusted anger. "That's not-! you can't-! **NO!"**

Staring him right in the eyes, Reaper brought the wrapped vegetables to his mouth and took a large bite. "Yum," he said around the mouthful.

If possible, Killer's expression darkened further. "You're fucking disgusting."

"Actually..." Reaper began quietly.

Error didn't bother looking up from his plate. "It's Error."

_"And_ Ink." Ink muttered.

Cross' neutral smile twitched into a smirk. At Killer's side, Horror burst into laughter, complimented by Reaper's slight chuckles.

Endure, confused, looked between Horror and Cross; unsure why they were laughing. Similarly, Killer looked equally thrown.

And then, they both got it:

_You're fucking disgusting_ , Killer said.

_Actually, he's fucking **Ink and Error.**_

Killer screamed in outrage, though his frown wanted to twist into an amused smirk. "I hate them! Nighty, send their asses back. Maybe we can get a refund?"

Chuckling, Nightmare shook his head, "You'll get along just fine."

Unwillingly, the husbands felt what little hope from Killer's words be crushed. Even if Nightmare was willing to make a new deal, it wasn't likely to happen so fast. 

Cross took another bite of food, watching everyone. _What exactly does Night want from us? To make actual chit-chat...?_

On the surface, it seemed as if that was all there was to the dinner. Only, this was Nightmare. Breaking the ice? It was just a cover. But for what...?

And wasn't _that_ the question of the month? Well, the last few months, actually. As second in command, Cross was present for all the planning and preparation that went into what Nightmare deemed as 'missions'. From anything as minor as causing mischief to their greater, more drastic plans, he was at Nightmare's to aid in everything. There _should_ have been no secrets between Nightmare and himself...

So why did he feel like he was missing something? Like there was more to Nightmare's plans than his boss previously let on?

_I don't like this_. Cross decided, expression never changing to reflect his discomfort. Across the table, Error shifted and his sockets narrowed slightly in response. Adjusting himself, or...? _I really, really don't like this._

But, at the of the day, it didn't matter what he did or did not like.

Cross' only purpose here was to follow orders.

Speaking of...

Glancing down at his meal, Cross ate up what few bites remained before pushing his plate away and clearing his throat to gather attention. When Nightmare's gaze settled on him, he nodded his head to a vague direction and raised a questioning brow. _Should I...?_

Nightmare nodded.

"What?" Error asked, sockets narrowed and shoulders slightly tense. If that tendril moved any fucking higher, he was going to... fuck, do nothing. Not if he wanted to avoid the consequences. "What's going on?" he added when Cross stood from his seat and began walking away.

"I have a mission. That's all you need to know." Cross said blandly.

"Don't cramp," Error muttered, watching him go with narrowed sockets. Cross didn't bother looking back as he left the room. 

Horror huffed then glanced at Error. "What've you even been _doing_ for all this time?" 

Slowly, Error twirled a carrot in with some meat sauce before glancing up at him. "....quilting." 

Killer choked and started laughing. "Seriously?!" 

"What do you think I've been doing?" He chomped down, glancing between the two. "Sitting on my ass watching Undernovela?" 

"Writing fanfiction about it maybe." Killer snorted. 

Ink glanced sideways at him.

Twitching, Error grumbled, "Doesn't matter what I was doing..."

Horror's head tilted. Although his smile never lessened or grew, there was an new intensity in his singular eyelight when he looked to Error. "Humor me." he hedged, fork clinking against his plate as he speared a piece of meat.

"It's been what? Five years? Six?" Killer asked, eyes on Reaper as he glared and showed the god how to eat their meal the _right_ way. "Picturing you all holed up playing grandma with those knitting needles is hilarious, but c'mon, Error. There _has_ to have been more going on than that. We're not fucking stupid."

_Debatable_. Error thought, focusing on the spiteful word rather than the slick trail now circling his thigh. "You want to know what I was doing? Fine, look to my left." Where Ink and Reaper sat.

Killer snorted, "Sex jokes are gonna get old fast. But whatever. Keep your secrets."

"Now, now, Killer." Nightmare said, almost startling them all by speaking up. "If Error doesn't want to talk about his lovely little family, then we should respect that. I'll admit to being surprised though. Usually, parents jump at the opportunity to gush about their children."

Almost instantly, the fork Ink was holding bent completely in half. 

"Kids?" Horror paused with a bite nearly to his mouth. 

Error and Reaper also tensed, exchanging glances between each other. 

"Not going to show us any baby pictures?" Nightmare raised an eyebrow at them. 

The silence between the husbands was probably answer enough. 

Surprisingly, Endure was the first to break the silence. "Clearly, that is a joke, though I fail to find any humor in it."

Killer laughed, "Shit, you're right! Who would let that asshole," he gestured to Error with his fork, "raise a kid? I mean, it's _Error_. You don't create."

"Yes," Endure agreed, eyes cold, "he's only capable of _destroying_. Whatever creatures share a relation to him would surely dust under his care. Perhaps, even purposefully."

Nightmare said nothing in response. _Nightmare_ said _nothing_ and it soon became clear that he had no plans to correct the assumption that Error having children was nothing more than a joke. The out they all needed was right there, yet none of the skeletons forming the trio of husbands could relax.

The insinuation from Endure...

Ink had to close his eyes to conceal the angry red that color his symbols. _Error **loves** the kids. He wouldn't- he would **never** hurt one of them!_

_How **dare** he?!_ Reaper's sockets narrowed, the only outward sign of his anger.

"Did-" Error had to pause to force the angry growl of his voice into something smoother. No confrontation, huh? Swallowing, he tried again, glitching voice worse, but not all that obviously angry. "You think I'd kill any abominations I'd make?"

Endure looked at him with barely restrained rage. "I think you incapable of anything beyond death, **destroyer**. What child could survive your hands? The ones in my world certainly didn't."

Error's expression darkened minutely as he and Endure glared at each other. Then, Error sat back slightly, face smoothing, "Yeah, the joke probably could've been phrased differently." 

But the god found himself watching Endure closer. _What, did he see Error killing children in his world? Was he **certain** it was Error?_ He finished his plate, pushing it forward slightly, narrowing his sockets, _What assholes..._

Once he got his eye lights under control, Ink rested his hands on his crossed fingers, "Come now, aren't we all supposed to be _getting along_ now?" his gaze flicked between the willing nightmares. 

"Tch," Killer turned a grin on Ink, "Now _you?_ I'm surprised you don't have a whole _army_ of spawns! I've heard some very _juicy_ gossip about how easy it was to get the Protector to _come."_

Ink stiffened slightly. 

Reaper turned a smile to Killer. "Rumors, you say?" Without breaking eye contact, he twirled a knife around his fingers; the action so well practiced that it came off as absentminded. "Funny, I'm rather interested in those myself."

For a split second, Killer's grin dropped. "Are you? What, you gonna tell me you get off to them? Get so interested in what you heard that you went to try Ink out for yourself?"

"Oh, I wasn't talking about those rumors specifically." The knife came to a sudden stop; the blade pointed at Killer and somehow threatening despite being blunter than most spoons. "See, I like the ones with a bit of... well, let's say the ones that relate to my work. Like..." his gaze flicked slightly above Killer's head. It didn't come down. "Oh my, speaking of my work..." he smiled. "Well now, it seems like you and I will be getting very close very soon."

With a loud noise of impact, Killer's chair clattered to the ground. Pale, he backed away slightly. "You-! Boss," he hissed, "that's a fucking threat!"

Reaper blinked innocently, knife twirling around his fingers once more. "It wasn't meant to be. I mean, isn't that the point of all this?" he smiled. "Growing closer together? I was just sharing what I thought was a common interest." Shrugging, he returned to what remained of his meal. "Sorry, guess I was wrong."

A somewhat uncomfortable silence fell over the table, and with it, Nightmare very slowly retrieved his tendril from Error's upper thigh. His smile was slow as he observed every single being at the table. Everyone had long been done with their food. 

"Hmm.... Killer, dish duty is on you. If you so desire, sharpen the knives, but not," he shot a glare to the skeleton, "the butter knives." 

Killer glanced away, eyes narrowed, "Yes, Boss." He stood from the table, gathering all the dishes before disappearing into the kitchen. 

He turned to the rest of the nightmares at the table, smiling. "Horror, Endure, start your stuff." 

With a glance to each other, the two stood from their chairs and left. 

Nightmare waited until they left before standing walking to the other side of the table. He rested his hands on the table and smiled down at them. 

"Hasn't this just been such a lovely evening?" Nightmare asked, his warm voice and smile contradicted by the ice in his eye. "Don't bother answering. I know how you _really_ feel, after all. All that anger... the annoyance, the worry... truly, it enhanced the flavor of my own meal. Every bite was made all that more delicious by the negativity you fail to hide behind those mask you all wear."

Nothing was said on their end.

Smirking, the lord of the despair chuckled, "Holding your words, are you? Afraid that anything you say might anger me? Well, don't be. Since you all behaved, I'll give you a reward to honor that good behavior. Until you leave this room, you may speak freely with me. No worry of punishment for anything you say. Well, anything outside of pointless insulting. I don't care to sit here and listen to you all as you hurl names at me like children."

Ink frowned, "And how are we supposed to trust this 'reward'?"

A tendril lashed out, causing Ink to reflexively flinch back and shut his eyes. When no impact came and they opened, he found the tendril curled under Error's chin. "Our common _friend_ here knows _very well_ just how often I like to reward good behavior, artist. This reward is no trick. No lie."

Error stared blandly at him. "What's your deal, Night? Have us sit around you like pretty little trophies? **Hurting** my brother?" 

He chuckled, rubbing the tip of his tendril across Error's cheekbone. "You want to know why? Why, why, why? Well, let me ask _you_ something, **Ruru**. Why not?" 

"No... no there's more..." Ink dug his fingers into his thigh bones, desperately wanting to rip that fucking tendril away from his husband's face. 

"You _would_ want something more, wouldn't you? How _greedy..."_ Nightmare turned eyes to Ink, sliding his tongue across his teeth and earning a furious glare from the three husbands. "The deal was for a month, was it not? Complete obedience? Don't tell me _now_ that you're going to go against that so soon?" 

Reaper narrowed his eyes, "No." _Not if Geno's going to pay the price of our… insubordination._

Stars, Geno…

“Oh,” Nightmare murmured, quiet yet _pleased_ , “you truly love that little glitch, don’t you, god?” he questioned, poisonous stare now focused on Reaper alone. 

Knowing he could afford to do so in that moment, Reaper met the lord’s stare with an artic glare and spiteful scowl. “Of course I do,” he growled, “he’s my _husband.”_

“And since when has that ever required love?” Nightmare shot back, though he didn’t really care for an answer. “Still, I can tell you _do_ love him. It’s so disgustingly positive that standing as close as I am is nearly making me ill.”

The gold smiled. It was not a kind expression. “Why don’t you step closer?”

Instead of angering, Nightmare laughed. “Oh, I like you. I like you a lot, I think. Error, the artist… they’re angry, but _your_ anger is so much… _darker_. Then again, sweet little Genocide is your first, isn’t he? He’s special.”

“He’s special to _all_ of us.” Ink cut in, not liking the gleam of interest in Nightmare’s eye as he watched the god. 

The addition only made Nightmare shrug. “But it’s different for the god, isn’t it? I know very well you all wish to tear my head from my shoulders, but _he,”_ a tendril waved at Reaper, “wants it just a little bit more whenever sweet Geno is brought up.”

“Stop it with the fucking names already.” Error demanded. “Little Genocide? _Sweet_ Geno? It’s-”

“True.” A tongue ran across Nightmare’s smile. “The second one, at least. He did taste quite _sweet_ when we played around while getting him into that dress.”

Again, the husbands' rages flared, but Nightmare's eye gleamed brighter as he stared down the god. "Yes, _there._ How delectable." 

_He's playing with us_ , Error knows without a doubt that Nightmare is, but he also knows that that knowledge isn't enough. Playing with them, trying to rile them up... when it comes down to it, that doesn't mean anything. Not when telling fact from fiction is too difficult with Nightmare's shitty sense of humor and shittier games.

Still, he'd gotten good at sifting through the bullshit Nightmare threw at him. With that in mind, he growled, "Be honest, Night. What the fuck have you done to my brother?" It's only been a day, yeah, but a single day with Nightmare is akin to a week in hell.

The look Nightmare gives him is one he recognizes instantly. The slight grin, the unreadable eye... he's considering telling the truth. "Nothing, really." Nightmare said, shrugging with the admission and pulling all limbs back to himself. "Well, nothing aside from having a little fun before you all showed yesterday."

"Fun?" Reaper practically snarls, the shadow of his eyes darker than ever. 

Ink's own anger lights his eyelights red. "I saw his neck," he hissed, though he never got an actual look, "his wrist, his ankles... what _fun_ did you have with him?!

Instead of meeting their eyes, Nightmare's attention was on the table. Not to hide, but to examine the various bottles littered around. Water, soda... ah, wine. Reaching out, he pulled the bottle closer and grabbed a clean glass from the table. "Still upset about that?" he asked, dragging the cork free and pouring himself a glass he was quick to drink.

"For fuck’s sake," Error growled, "will you just tell us? For once in your fucking life, drop the dramatic bullshit!" 

Nightmare's next smile is painted red; wine, but too similar to blood for comfort. When his tongue flicked out to clear away the red, they all shivered. "It was just a bit of necking. Some harmless fun, really. Although..." his gaze went distant, "I _did_ enjoy it. Perhaps, I'll enjoy _more_. I'm sure I can convince dear little Geno to give me a try."

"Convince?" Ink hissed, "Or _force?"_

Smirk hidden behind his glass, Nightmare murmured, _“Convince_ , artist" before his gaze flicked to the bottle of wine. "Maybe we'll make it a romantic evening. Share a glass or two."

"Enjoy _this."_

Reaper was out of his chair before Ink registered the _depth_ of his rage, and the edge of his scythe rests against Nightmare's neck by the time Ink grabbed that arm. His eye flicked to Reaper's furious expression. 

The lord mocked, "Just because _words_ are exempt from punishment do not mean _actions_ are... friend." 

Error stood slowly. "Nightmare, don't. Don't do this." 

"Are you going to beg again?" 

Ink shuddered at the dirtied glee underneath Nightmare's words. 

Unlike the twitching fingers hidden in Error's pocket, Reaper's hands were still as he wield his scythe. "Stop it." He demanded, sockets narrowed to slits and blade drawing blood as he presses his scythe closer to the lord's neck. "Just... just fucking _stop_. Your pointed comments, your smug smirks... it's pissing me off!"

"Then why haven't you finished me off yet?" Nightmare shoots back, working around the inconvenience of the threatening weapon in order to sip at his glass. "One swing and I'll be gone for..." he tilted his head, "hm, one hour? Maybe two? I'm sure the distress of being unable to find pretty little Geno's SOUL will be more than enough to bring me back faster."

Very rare was it that Death The Elder ever choose to withdraw his blade from the neck of a victim. In that moment, he's so ready to finish the asshole before him off. He can hear the indescribable song of a nearing end and the echoing noise of a clock slowly ticking down and he _knows_ this death would be forgiven.

Most victims, he doesn't choose.

Some, he does and the rules allow it. 

But what Nightmare says... it's a threat. A real, terrifying threat. _Kill me, and I'll be back. Before you can find his SOUL, before you can escape... I'll be back, and I'll repay you for my death in **blood.**_

"Well?" Nightmare pushes, wine red smirk stretched wide. There's no doubt within his mind that he's won yet again.

With a flash of cyan, the blade disappeared and Reaper sunk back into his seat in defeat.

Ink shot him a concerned look, his hand still on the god's arm, but there wasn't much either of them can do. The artist pulled his arm away, but couldn’t bring himself to sit. Not yet anyway. 

Nearly chuckling, Nightmare murmurs, _"There_ we go." Watching the three of them, he finished the glass. Soon, he's smiling at Error. "Don't you miss being home?" 

Error kept his gaze, eyes narrowed. "It might be more enjoyable if you weren't threatening my husbands and brother." 

"I won't have to follow through on anything as long as you three _do_ follow through." He shrugged. "Is that it for you three? Any questions?" His gaze flicked to the artist. "It seems like _you've_ had a question on your mind this whole time." 

_How do I control my empathy?_ Ink shook his head. "It's simple. We follow the rules for a month, you don't hurt Geno at all." 

"Heh, not exactly, but close enough." Nightmare loomed closer, peering into the too-expressive eye lights of the artist who teamed up with his brother. Tch, his brother... 

_Close enough?!_ Ink's crimson eyes narrowed. "Care to clarify?"

"...No." Nightmare decided, settling his empty glass on the table and straightening from his intimidating loom. "I don't think I'll clarify at all, artist. You three are dismissed for the night. Do keep in mind that the freedom you were gifted during this conversation shall be voided the moment you step through that door. Oh, and Error?"

Said skeleton tensed. "What?"

Smiles really shouldn't be so foul. "Glad to see your old turtleneck still fits. It spent all those years in my closet that I was a bit concerned it wouldn't suit you anymore. I'm pleased to see my concerns were unfounded."

Error _barely_ repressed his shudder, but Nightmare's gaze dropping down his body told him it wouldn't have mattered. _He noticed._ "Dismissed." 

Slowly, Reaper and Error stood again, though the god and the artist waited for the reinstated destroyer to start walking before following him. 

Nightmare watched them all go. Just before the door shut, Ink accidentally caught his eye. For the first time all night, Nightmare had no idea what's going on in the artist's mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Golden's absolute favorite line of the entire story: "Hot take," Reaper murmured, showing Killer his meat-wrapped veggies.
> 
> Credit for that beautiful line goes to TK!


	43. Geno's Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which dinner is a little lonelier without family...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger Warning** : Heavily implied non-con touching, nyctophobia

There wasn't a prepared plate waiting for him when he stepped into the kitchen, but that was expected. The glamour, the presentation of delicious food and a casual atmosphere... all of that was for the three in the dining room, not Nightmare's little guest. 

Sighing, Cross pulled a plate from the cabinet and set about gathering what he could from the pots and pans used to prepare the meal he himself got to enjoy. Most of it was gone; however, so all he ended up with was a sad looking collection of scraps. _No additions_ , he reminded himself, yet just the sight of the poor excuse for a full meal made him feel starved. And that was _with_ a stomach that was far from empty. Maybe...?

He shook his head. Horror kept stock of _everything_ in the kitchen. If even so much as a single pea went missing, he would know and tear through the castle in search of the culprit; alerting Nightmare in the process. 

But if it didn't come from the kitchen... Hesitantly, he slid a hand into his pocket. He was saving it, but he _did_ have a small box of sweets. It was closer to candy than food but, he glanced down at the plate, it would help fill an empty stomach.

 _If Nightmare somehow learns about it though_... Ugh, he was going in circles. Heaving a big, great sigh, he shook his head to rid himself of his unhelpful thoughts and grabbed some utensils. _I'm going to be off schedule if I waste anymore time here._

Shaking his head slightly, Cross made his way through a separate door out the kitchen, then down countless halls into the darkest room of the castle. There was maybe a flickering light just outside the door, but that light wasn't even visible to the being on the other side.

Cross sighed, squared his shoulders, and did a small patterned knock to announce his arrival. Not that the glitch had any say in his coming or going, but...

He let the thought leave and entered, making sure to shut the door behind him before parting his grin to announce, “Dinner,” to Nightmare’s guest.

A sob choked out through rapid, gasping breaths prevented him from getting much further than the first syllable. To ensure he couldn’t possibly have mistaken the cry for anything other than a sound of sorrow filled panic, another sob soon followed. Then another, so on and so on until the harsh, broken crying became little more than pitiful wheezes.

Seconds later, there was a soft thud, then silence.

_Shit…_

Careful not to keep the meager meal from spilling off the plate he held, Cross rushed across the surprising distance between the door and the center of the room, guided only by a single bulb hidden in the ceiling that acted as his only source of light with the small beam of brightness it offered.

The light produced by the bulb wasn’t enough to illuminate everything, but it provided just enough to make visible the small patch of grass that sat beneath it; an oddity in a room that looked to be full of nothing but shadow.

Well, shadow and the small, limp figure sprawled across the grass.

_“I’m afraid our lovely little guest seems to have a slight problem with his room. Do take care to wake him should he...overexcite himself. I won’t have my things wasting away because they chose sleep over nourishment.”_

_A slight problem…? Overexcited?_ After spending years as one of his subjects, Cross was well accustomed to translating Nightmare’s dramatics and picking out the true meaning of his words, but…

Coming to a stop once the soft sound of his footsteps became muffled by grass, Cross knealt and placed the plate to the side for now. Reaching out, he curled his fingers around a frail shoulder and rolled the small skeleton onto his back.

 _No response to the movement, but he’s breathing._ Calmly too. The faint Nightmare’s guest forced himself into easing his previous panicked breathing into deep, slow breaths. Good. That meant that whatever set his assigned charge off wasn’t following him into his dreams. Less work for Cross. _Less work doesn’t mean easier work though…_ He still had to wake him.

Sighing, he placed his palm against the other skeleton’s cheek. Without moving his fingers too far back, he tapped him. Once, twice, thrice… Nothing. A firmer attempt also failed to drag him from the depths of his unconsciousness. He tried a bit more pressure, yet the results remained the same.

The ugly bruise reddening a cheek prevented him from trying much harder. _Gonna have to try something else…_ but what? Cross was expecting distress, yes, but not full-blown panic, especially not when being seated on Nightmare’s lap throughout negotiations had failed to bring forth such a response. Tears, screams… but no fainting. No intense fear like what Cross was sure he would had witnessed more of had he arrived earlier. _What is it about this room though…?_

He had theories, but what use were those? Without an exact known for the cause of his charge’s fear, he had no way of preventing yet another… what? Panic attack? He wasn’t sure. Either way, waking the other just for them to faint once again would be a waste of time.

 _And failing to feed him will be a **failure**..._ One was definitely preferable to the other.

Heaving another sigh, he settled down in a more comfortable position and rifled through his inventory. Halfway down the line, a half empty water bottle caught his eye that he was quick to remove. A little warm, but cool enough to work. Hopefully. “Sorry, Geno,” he murmured, unscrewing the cap and pouring the contents onto the glitch’s face.

The smaller skeleton jerked awake from his unintentional nap, chest rising and falling rapidly from the surprise. “W-wha… what…?” he gasped, eye light hazy but slowly coming into focus.

And then, he caught sight of Cross. No, not… not Cross. His gaze was off. A little too high and off to the side.

Recognition.

Slowing breaths picked up speed. “N-no… _No!”_ Geno choked, hyperventilating as his eyelight flickered; in danger of fizzling out as intense panic set in once again. Curling forward, he hid his face in his knees, but what should have comforted him only seemed to worsen his distress. “N-no, no, no! Pl...p-please…” he wheezed, “I… n-not here. Oh g-gods, please! N...n-not...not h-here…!”

 _What do I do?_ What _could_ he do? Geno’s issue was obviously with the room, but Cross’ orders were clear: He was _not_ to be let out unless Nightmare directly ordered Cross to do so. “Geno, calm down.”

“I...It’s… i-it’s…” Whining, Geno shook his head rapidly. At one point, he uncurled from the tight, trembling ball he was forming and chanced a glance at the light above them, but the darkness at every edge of his vision had him hiding again. “P-please, p-please…” he begged.

He continued the plea like a mantra, each new cycle of “pleasepleaseplease” weakening when his breathing quickened too much to actually allow him air.

_“His use is limited at the moment, but… hm, I want him in decent shape, I think. If dear, fragile Genocide seems a little too worked up though, you have orders to calm him._

_“How?”_

_A simple device was tossed to him. Small and made of plastic, all it looked to be was a single button. “Don’t toy with that. I’d like to avoid rewarding him when he hasn’t earned it as much as possible.”_

Fumbling inside his pocket, Cross searched out the piece of machinery. Once found, he wasted no time in pressing the button.

With a quiet click, lights Cross was unaware of flickered on. They nearly blinding him as they illuminated the room so drastically that not a single shadow remained. _Light…?_ That was the solution then? The so-called reward he was warned against offering too freely.

It didn’t seem like much of a reward, but the near-blinding brightness did what Cross alone could not: Slowly yet steadily, it brought Geno out of his panic. Ashen and a mess of sweat and tears, he eventually caught his breath, though it shuddered every now and then with hiccuping sobs. _Still afraid, but not as badly._ So, yes, the light definitely helped.

There was a word for this, right? Cross didn’t know it. “Afraid of the dark?” he questioned, voice flat but not intending cruelty. He sought information, not mockery. _Why wasn’t I informed of this beforehand?_

Trembling with the remains of terror, Geno wiped the water and tears from his face and slowly uncurled. The creaking of his bones told Cross the position he was in was one he frequented for quite some time now. “...I…” he whispered, voice hoarse, “...y-yeah.” the glitch admitted, seeing no point is saving his shattered pride when the evidence still dripped from his eye.

 _Nightmare took him here yesterday evening, didn’t he?_ That meant that the glitch would have been trapped within the room for nearly twenty-four hours. _How long have the lights been off? How… how many times has he passed out from panic?_

Cross wasn’t sure that was a question he wanted answered.

In a lot of ways, knowing such a thing wouldn’t help either of them. Not when an explanation would force the other, smaller skeleton into recalling his fear just for Cross to be unable to do much of anything to ease it.

_This feels familiar…_

_In all the worst ways._

“Here,” he murmured, picking up the cold plate of food and setting it down before Geno. In hindsight, he should have brought water or some other form of drink. Not only would it offer the glitch more of a meal, but something cold would have done well at the moment. “Try to eat.”

"...I'm not hungry..." Geno rasped, nauseated both by panic and the emptiness of his stomach. Food would help with one of those issues, but would only worsen the other, especially if his fear skyrocketed again and had him choking and gagging on his own terror.

Cross didn't remove the plate though. "Eat.

Geno shook his head, silent as he brought his knees up to his chest and turned his head from the scraps.

Cross frowned, nudging the plate slightly closer. "Listen, it’s cold but it’ll probably still taste good. I get you maybe not being in the mood to eat, but..." he glanced around, a hand sliding in his pocket. "I have a sweet for you once dinner's eaten, okay?" People treated sadness with ice cream, right? Maybe some sugar would help Geno.

Slowly, the glitch turned his head and looked at him. "...Why? Is it drugged?" 

"Is my- _the_ candy drugged?" _Seriously?_ Cross narrowed his eyes. "There's no reason to drug you."

"Isn't there?" Geno mumbled, reluctantly uncurling and reaching out. Thankfully, Cross didn’t mention the way his hands shook as he reached for the plate. "Drugging seems like something your boss would be into. Then again, what do I know?" Shakily accepting a fork, he prodded at a cold carrot, painful hunger still at odds with the churning of his stomach. "It's not like I ever expected the guy who goes by Nightmare to be into _dress up.”_

Cross' eyelights wavered slightly as he looked over the little skeleton, examining for the first time just what he wore. Gone was the flowing, elegant ball gown from yesterday. In its place, the captive glitch wore a simple shirt that was just _barely_ considered oversized.

"Like what you see?" Geno murmured bitterly, forkful of food pressed against a frown that tried for angry but could only manage exhausted sorrow. "If you're wondering if I'm wearing underwear, don't. Your _boss_ decided I could do without them." Quietly, the glitch murmured, “But you can probably see that, can’t you?”

Respectfully, Cross turned his gaze away. The shirt was too short to even be considered a risqué dress of sorts, though the length made sense. Despite being borrowed clothing, the signature black-green color and distinct symbol on the collar told him that the shirt was one of Nightmare's. _Boss isn’t much taller than him._ Not enough for the hem to fall any lower than the very top of Geno’s thighs.

“Probably should have expected this, really.” Geno continued, voice quiet and bitter as he picked through his poor meal. “I mean, ripping off someone’s fucking underwear in front of their-” Voice breaking, the glitch dropped that statement for another. “Your boss made it clear he’s not a fan of certain pieces of clothing.”

Cross risked a glance. Mingling with the other’s sorrow was a look of humiliation that had him quickly looking away again. "He deviated from..." _everything._

Geno blinked, glancing at him, "What?" 

But Cross refused to talk. He waited until he heard a fork scraping against a nearly empty plate before he took his chances with another glance.

Seated under the beam of light as he was, the bruising on Geno’s cheek that Cross noted when attempting to awake him was easy to find. Able to give it more than a quick glance, he noted just how bad it seemed to be. _A trick of the light…?_ He wasn’t sure, but the wound was...ugly, really. A mix of splotchy, noticeable reds that darkened the most on the apple of the glitch’s cheek. _That’s probably where Nightmare made first contact._ But stars, how hard did his boss hit him?

Out of habit born from the duties expected of him as second, his gaze roamed once he had enough of inspecting Geno’s cheek; searching out further wounds to take note of and later suggest healing for. The mark from the slap was the most noticeable, but the slightly oversized shirt wasn't enough to hide other areas of discoloration. A slight pink around the wrist and ankles, dark red over the knuckles of one hand, the finger marks on the side of Geno's skull, and....

Cross repressed a shudder. _Seriously, what are you doing, Boss?_

A hand slapped over the side of Geno's neck, covering the mark that captured Cross' focus and keeping it hidden behind trembling phalanges.

"I'm done." Geno snapped, eye light averted and body instinctively starting to retreat into his defensive curl. No real clothing, too great a risk of attempting to attack...hiding himself was the best defense he had, even if there wasn’t much he could do to hide beyond curling up. "You can take my plate and go. Or are you going to keep gawking, asshole?"

Cross slid his gaze away yet again. "I'm to remain here until I'm relieved." A small scoff told him just how pleased Geno was with that. _Babysitting,_ they both picked out from the orders.

“Let me guess, if I don’t act nice and docile for you, you’re going to turn o-off the lights?” The waver in Geno’s voice didn’t go unnoticed. No matter how bitter and upset he was, it didn’t change the fact that Geno was also _scared._

“I…” In his pocket, the small box of pocky Cross had suddenly felt like a thousand pound weight. "Look, I'm just following orders, okay?" hesitantly, he pulled the box out and offered it to Geno. "...but if you keep quiet, this doesn't have to be completely terrible?"

Watching him warily, the glitch slowly reached out and took the box. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, the food helped his upset stomach quite a bit. "And if he _orders_ you to do something to make ‘terrible’ look like a walk in the park?"

The 'something' in question was clear. In this situation, Nightmare had all the power and the twisted form of amusement to abuse it in horrifying manners. Cross trapped in a room with a small glitch dressed in nothing more than a short, revealing shirt?

It was obvious what the reason behind the fear in Geno's eye was.

"He's threatened it, you know?" Geno whispered, peeling the box open with slow, shaky movements. "I wouldn't stand still for that fucking dress, so he suggested he call you in to _help_. Wonder what you'll do when he _orders_ you to, next time? When he wants to watch someone have _fun_ with the poor, helpless glitch."

Cross' fists clenched, his shoulders giving the slightest shiver. _What... what **would** I do...?! I... I c-can't... that's not a-_ "Heh," Cross chuckled, the noise turning into a puff of air as sighed heavily, "That's..." his voice dropped to where Geno had to strain to hear him, "that isn't a line I can **cross**...” Louder, he said, “I'm going to take your plate now. When you're done, I'll need that box back, okay?"

The pun hidden in Cross’ quiet words was so out of place in this hellhole that, for a while, it went completely over Geno’s head. When it finally registered, he choked out a surprised laugh around the sugary-sweet biscuit in his mouth.

The joyful little sound didn’t last long. Halfway through a chuckle, his voice broke and the first of many tears spilled down his cheek. “Are… a-are they okay?” There was no question on who ‘they’ were. “C-can… can you tell me? P-please, Cross?”

Hand hesitating over Geno’s plate, Cross paused. “...You know my name?” he wasn't sure why he was surprised. Nightmare has said it often enough around the glitch, he’s sure. Hell, Geno even said that the king of the castle mentioned him yesterday in his threat. But… _Didn’t expect him to use it. Who wanted to refer to their enemy nicely, after all?_

The answer to his question didn't match any of his expectations. With a miserable sniffle, Geno pulled another piece of pocky from the box in his hand and brought it to his mouth, mumbling, “White and black? A scar under your eye? E-Error only ever mentioned one friend who sounds like you.”

 _A friend, huh?_ That wasn’t true. Not… not anymore. “Look,” Cross sighed, “I can only be so lenient with you. This,” he gestured between them, “can’t be a thing. I have my morals, but I...I can’t be kind. I’m here to watch you, not to be your friend, okay?" 

Chocolate filled his mouth, the thin piece of pocky now protruding from his unsealed grin preventing more words from falling out. It’s not that he couldn't speak around the sweet treat though. He’s just… surprised. So much that it’s the unexpected action has him falling silent.

“You’re not my friend.” Geno acknowledged, voice quiet and still wet with tears. “But… but you were my brother’s friend, Cross. Error… he doesn’t have many of those. At least, not any he likes enough to want to mention them. He… he trusted you, once. I…” _Want to be able to trust you too._ “P-please just… t-tell me. I w-won’t keep asking if you do, s-so… _Please?”_

Briefly, Cross wondered if he'd ever be able to look Geno in the eye without fear, guilt, or even being under orders. "They're..." eyes turned away, he was unable to see what expression Geno wears, but he could hear the skeleton perk up slightly, hinged on the single hesitantly uttered word of his brother's old friend. 

It occurred to both of them nearly at the same time that Cross could say whatever he wanted and Geno wouldn't be sure if it was the truth or not. That any answer would be backed only by the fragile trust for Cross that Error’s old stories planted in Geno. Still... 

He was about to start begging for the truth when Cross met his gaze. "If they stick to the rules, they'll be fine."

The glitch sagged slightly, silent as he averted his gazed and reached for another treat with fingers that trembled worse than before. _**If** they stick to the rules…_

His family had a terrible track record with that.

Cross slid the plate next to himself and waited in the tense, awkward silence for Geno to finish with the rest of the treats so that he could do away with the box. More than half of the box remained, so he settled in for what he expected to be quite a few minutes of waiting, but Geno paused after only two more pieces.

He was too worried to continue eating.

"Here." he whispered, rubbing his tears away with one hand while the other offered the box to Cross. "I...I'm full."

Slowly, Cross took the box back and pocketed it. 

_You can’t be kind, but...?_ Geno glanced sideways at the guard, noticing him keeping his distance as he subtly took a pocky out for himself to munch on. The glitched frowned slightly. _Maybe...?_ He stared down at his lap, gripping the edge of the shirt and stretching it in an attempt at covering himself more. _Did Nightmare threaten my husbands and brother...?_

Shuddering, Geno recalled the threats whispered to him throughout the walk to the throne room yesterday. Nightmare was definitely a fan of threatening others, it seemed.

What worried him was that he didn't seem to be the kind who settled for **empty** threats.

_"If you don't stop fighting me over this dress, then I'll take matters into my own hands." Nightmare growled. "You can kick and scream all you want, but it won't change a thing. Either you behave and dress yourself, or I'll rip you out of those clothes and do it myself. And trust me when I say this, glitch: that'll only be fun for **one** of us."_

_Geno spat in his face when the dress was offered to him again._

Closing his eye in regret, Geno tried to ignore the phantom sensation centered around the mark on his neck. _Definitely not one for empty threats..._

Cross didn't offer any new conversation topics. Mostly being uncertain on what to talk about. Should he ask about how Error has been? Should he ask about his child? What about Ink? Or the god, Reaper?

By the time Cross realized that his duty for the night was nearing its end, he still hadn't found a topic suitable for conversation between the two. In all honesty, there was _nothing_ suitable to speak about. Not when the glitch was a prisoner and Cross was only here out of duty.

Distantly, he acknowledged just how often he'd been sighing when he did so again. "Nightmare will coming to relieve me of my duties soon," he announced. He pretended not to notice Geno's flinch.

"O...okay..." Geno whispered, as if speaking any louder would summon the man in question faster.

Cross looked to him, touching his own face by the corner of his mouth. He murmured, "You have crumbs- yeah there," he confirmed when Geno wiped it away. Hesitantly, he added, "If he asks, just..." he shrugged and glanced away. "I already have a quiet reputation. Make up whatever suits your fancy if it saves your bones." 

Geno looked to him, surprised. The former royal guard stood, pulling another pocky from the box in his pocket and to munch on it. He carried the plate and fork in his other hand and, within minutes, they could hear the soft squishing of Nightmare's footsteps. The glitch shrank away from both of them at the sound before he fully realized it. Cross wasn't surprised and didn't turn his attention away when Nightmare entered the room without a knock.

Slowly, the toxic green of Nightmare's eye glanced around the confines of the once dark room. Seeing nothing out of place aside from the extra light, _not that there was anything to be out of place,_ he nodded and turned his attention to Cross. "Anything to report?" he asked.

"There was a small incident that led to me using the device you gave me. Other than that, nothing to report, Boss."

"I see… Any poor behavior? Attempts of escape? Complaints of any sort?"

"No."

Nodding, Nightmare motioned to the door with his head. "Dismissed."

There was a strange urge to glance back as he left the room.

Cross didn't, but it was a very close thing; especially when he caught the words spoken by his boss just before the door slid shut and the lock clicked into place.

"The night's still young, Genocide..." footsteps and a whimper, "...why don't we have some _fun?"_

The light showing beneath the door vanished.

Geno screamed.


	44. Week One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the end of the first week is... :3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Potential Trigger Warnings** : Weapons, mild violence, mentions of past trauma/torture

The second day was spent almost entirely with Horror, going over the ins and outs of the kitchen. It was mostly a bunch of "Do not touch this, do not touch that, you tamper with those pantry locks and I'll cut your hands off." Typical chef business. 

The third day was with Endure, learning the more menial chores. Floors. Laundry. Dishes. Even detailing the wall trimmings! Mostly, the Papyrus just glared at the husbands and demanded proper spotless results, but nothing else was too terrible. 

The fourth day was spent with Killer. Cataloguing his knives. "As if you don't already have them catalogued in multiple different ways?" Error had growled in annoyance. But true to their word, the husbands did as they were told. 

Every day they had a "family dinner" with barely concealed threats, sex jokes, poking and prodding to anger the husbands, Cross leaving earlier than the rest, and Nightmare dismissing them all to go to their rooms.

But when the fifth day began, it was finally something interesting. 

"Today, the three of you will be sparring," Cross spoke from across them. He wore loose-fitting white slack-looking pants, no shoes, and a black tank top that still exposed the multitude of scars he had. The husbands were in similar gear, though they wore long sleeve shirts instead. 

Error sighed, and though he didn't glance over, Cross instantly took notice. "Are you _bored_ , Error? Or do you have a question?" 

"Who are we sparring?" 

His old friend stared at him and shrugged carelessly. "Doesn't matter, but if you choose to spar with _me_ , understand that I will not go easy on you." 

"What, still upset that I left?" Error narrowed his sockets. 

The former Royal guard crossed his arms over his chest, squaring his body towards the three. "Something like that," he muttered, though he didn’t sound invested in the words. 

Reaper glanced to the husbands before looking at him. "I cannot spar y-" 

"Yes, you can. You just have an extra rule to not touch me when we spar." His gaze flicked to Ink. "Any questions from you?"

Ink frowned. "So... what exactly...? Are we just-" he made some half-hearted chopping motions with his hands. 

A smile threatened to crack Cross' mask. "No. You're going to choose your least favorite or least proficient weapon from our selection, and you're going to train today and tomorrow with me." 

"I thought you said spar," Reaper frowned, though Ink's eye lights turned into stars as he gazed at the _entire selection_ of weapons. 

Error wondered which weapon caught Ink's fascination, or if it was the idea that so many weapons were so close and he was imagining using _all_ of them on Nightmare. Error shook his head, turning to Reaper. "This is a spar-slash-training session. They're always combined here." 

"Still remember your old ways?" Cross raised a brow. 

"I _left_ , I didn't get _brain damage."_

The smile snuck more on his mask, though he clamped it down quickly when he noticed Ink inching closer to the weapons. "Already found your least-?" 

"I don't really have one." 

All three of them looked to Ink, who glanced back when the silence grew too loud. "...what...?" 

"You always use your paintbrush," Cross narrowed his sockets. "You don't have a least favorite? Or a least proficient?" 

_"We haven't tried this with a mace..." the voice murmured. "Or a bone saw. Ohh, I always wanted to use this cigar snipper. Fingers just work so perfectly in-"_

"I _know_ all of them," Ink interrupted the memory immediately, forcing a smile. 

Cross hummed softly. "Guess we'll find out today, won't we?"

Frowning slightly, Reaper drifted on over to where the artist stood. "Least favorite, huh...?" he murmured, gaze drifting over the plentiful options he had to choose from. "Does hand-to-hand count?" It wasn't something he ever had the chance to learn. 

Cross shook his head. "For you? No. It's a useless skill for someone who merely requires a single touch to claim victory. Choose a weapon. You too, Error."

"You know I'm half-decent with most of these." Error frowned.

The ex guard met his eyes. "There's one weapon you always avoided."

Error stiffened, well aware of just which option Cross was referring to. "I've trained with them."

"Barely. Grab the knives, Error. You'll use those. God, Artist? Select your weapons within the next few minutes."

Reaper and Ink exchanged glances and stepped towards the selection. The god... _really_ didn't know which one to pick. He'd seen all of them in action, one way or another. A least favorite? A least proficient? He frowned and picked up a small dagger, still frowning. 

Ink, though hesitating just as long, was staring at the whip. Once Reaper made his decision, Ink picked the whip up, letting it uncurl to the floor- 

_**CRACK!** the sound was clean and deafening, and the resulting pain left him seeing white-_

"Ink!" Error snapped. Blinking, the artist looked to him. His husband frowned, "Where'd you go...?" 

"...nowhere? I haven't moved?" 

Cross interrupted, "Don't get lost in your mind artist. I've been instructed to _make sure_ you pay attention." 

_"Pay attention to how it arcs in the air, just before cleaving flesh from bone. See how perfect that cut is-?"_

"Do you **understand?!"** Cross stepped closer to Ink, annoyance finally drifting into his voice. 

"Y-yes, I understand." Ink wound the whip up again, stepping into the comfort of his husbands' colors for the moment, though their concern and focus were most predominant.

Discreetly, Error shifted slightly and brushed his hand comfortingly against Ink's. Warm, soft, gentle...

Nothing like the hands he kept seeing in flashes. 

A pinky curled around his own. One second, two, three... and then gone, but warmth lingered in the point of contact and spread throughout him. Comforting, _loved_...

With a deep breath, Ink gripped the whip tighter and forced his trembling hand to still. "Who goes first?"

Watching him for a moment longer, Cross shrugged. "Whoever. I don't really care. We're all going to spar one another by the end of today." 

Error gripped his knives tighter. "Why don't you and I start this little dance off?" 

"For old time's sake?" a smile twitched at Cross' mouth. 

"Sure," Error flipped a blade in the air, slightly wincing at how the light glinted off it, before catching it by the handle again. "What say you?" 

Picking up a long metal pole and dropping his center of gravity slightly, Cross let a grin grace his face, "Let's dance," he said, just as he allowed his ecto to form and- 

_Holy **shit.**_

Reaper tensed up when Ink's breath stuttered against his ribcage and he started to cough. Error, very slowly, turned to Ink. "Are you serious? What did you choke on you idiot?!" 

Ink waved at him. "Fine! I'm fine!" 

_Why the FUCK is Cross' ecto so buff?!_

He snuck a glance. "...Very fine, Ru." he murmured, "Very, very fine."

Slowly, Error followed his gaze. "Oh, you have _got_ to be fucking kidding me, Ink."

Cross glanced between the two. "Th-this is just to see if Error can make any cuts!" 

_"Sure_ it is, old friend," Error seemed to relax right into his old role.

Ink glanced slightly down to Reaper to see the god hiding his grin behind his sleeve. His colors couldn't hide though. _Oh no, he's hot!_ Ink elbowed Reaper, winking at him, and Reaper decided to avoid Ink's knowing gaze the rest of the session. 

The ex-Royal guard shook his head and focused his gaze on Error. He flipped the pole around, successfully blocking the first swipe of Error's blade. Cross easily disarmed him and pointed the pole at his neck. "Seriously? And you told me you were 'half' decent?" 

"It might be a goal of mine to make _you_ a little less than half decent," Error stepped away to retrieve his knives.

A faint lavender dusted Cross' cheeks and Ink had to grab Reaper's sleeve to keep from- well, he wasn't sure exactly what, but he was going to stop himself! 

"Try again," Cross stepped back, expertly flipping the pole around his wrists in a circle around himself until it was poised in a defensive manner in front of him. 

Error flipped his own blades in his hands, circling him. "Did you work out more?" 

"I'm not answering that." _Yes._

The reinstated destroyer grinned. "That's what I thought." He lunged again, one blade sliding across the pole as the other made to stab into his stomach- 

A quick twist, and the stabbing blade was knocked free of Error's hand, and the first blade was shoved further away from Cross.

Ink caught a brief flash of humor and managed to glimpse Error's wicked grin before his emptied hand lashed out. Cross tensed and quickly knocked the other blade free before he directed the polearm to block what he assumed to be an underhanded punch. "That's not-!" 

Unexpectedly, Error ducked under the dull weapon and spun on his heel, bringing himself behind Cross in a move that more of a playful dance than a dodge...

...and that allowed him to skim playful fingers across Cross' abdomen and lower back.

"Yeah," Error grinned, "you _definitely_ changed your workout routine."

The bashful hint of lavender Cross sported darkened significantly. "Damnit, Error, we're working on weapons, **not** distraction methods."

"Oh?" The destroyer purred, "I'm _distracting_ , am I?" When Cross began sputtering out denials about how that wasn't what he meant, he quickly dove for the nearest blade. A quick roll had him on his feet with the gleaming weapon in hand, but put Cross between him and it's twin. "C'mon, rookie. Show me how you handle that pole."

Reaper couldn't help himself. "I never dreaded my inability to touch others more than I have now." he murmured. "Stars, is it wrong that I want him to handle _my_ pole?" he whispered to Ink.

Ink's shoulders shook with the effort to not bust up laughing right there. "N-no, I feel the s-same...!" he whispered back. 

Cross tried his best for an angry expression as he tried even harder to ignore the whispering and Error's fucking _distractions_ , "The things the royal guards didn't teach me, you did. I had to figure it out on my own when you left." He feigned an attack high and, when the destroyer dropped low to dodge, Cross's ankle shifted slightly, and he slammed the end of the pole into his chest. 

Ink flinched at the dull burst of purple in his own chest, echoing the blow from Error. Error's eyes widened as he gasped for air. "W-well, you certainly _took my breath away,"_ he wheezed out. 

Cross twitched. "Dammit Error, _focus!_ Or I'll end up _actually_ hurting you!" 

_You wouldn't_. Error took a few breaths, then jumped to the side and lunged for the other blade- 

That was swiped away by the pole. The other end came crashing down, just missing the destroyer's head when he rolled to one side. Again, the pole end hit the ground getting closer and closer to Error, though Error kept rolling- 

He hit the wall. 

The pole flew at him, and he parried it with the blade, hissing at the effort it took to keep the knife still in his hand. He looked up, and _damn_ were those some fine ecto muscles... 

Upon noticing his attention slip, Cross leaned closer, murmuring, "There was a time where you were almost as _built_ as me. Is that true now?"

Error's face was already becoming flushed from the movement, but at the words, the blush brightened and he grinned. "If ya wanted me without my shirt, you're gonna have to ask Ink-" 

"You can see him shirtless if we see _you_ shirtless!" 

Cross scowled. "You both are idiots." He backed up, slightly and offered Error a hand. "You need to practice your knife skills again." 

Error clasped forearms with him, and let Cross help him up. The teasing aura around him faded as a frown appeared. "I don't want to. Killer-" 

"If you improve with me, you likely won't-" 

Error glanced away, letting him go. "C'mon, Cross, you know that isn't true." 

He watched Error walk back before glancing to Reaper. "Alright, your turn." 

"Yes _sir."_

As he made his way back to the sidelines where Ink stood, Error slowed his stride to a leisurely pace. "Damnit, Cross. You left me all hot." he complained, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it aside. As he continued walking, he gripped the hem of his shirt and began pulling it up, up, up and then off; deep blue ecto trailing after the retreating clothing. "There," he grinned, "that's better."

Although Cross outclassed him when it came to bulk and strength, there was no denying that Error himself was fit. Leaner and strength clearly more subtle, but still _fit._

As he stretched his arms above his head, the pseudo muscles beneath his skin reacted; rippling with the movement and bringing attention to the attractive blue. 

Reaper, staring alongside the others, stepped on his robe and went crashing straight into Cross.

Everyone froze for a moment. 

Every _thing_ froze. 

But once that moment was over, Reaper retreated from Cross much faster than he'd moved all week. Well, except for nearly decapitating Nightmare- 

Ink and Error were at his side, clinging to the god's arms and standing slightly between him and Cross, ready to protect him should the other want to exact revenge. 

Though, one word and they'd _have_ to listen, or else Geno- 

Cross stared after him. Eyes wide and an undeniable air of shock and ebbing fear around Reaper. He narrowed his eyes slightly on the god.

"N-no it w-was an accident, I-" Reaper paused frowning at him. "...why...? How aren't you...?" 

Slowly, Cross stood, still watching him. "Can you control your Death Touch...?" 

Subtly, Ink squeezed Reaper's arm. To lie and say 'yes' would be good, unless an accident happened. To tell the truth, and have Nightmare find out... 

Hoarsely, Reaper settled for a half-truth. "Sometimes..." 

Cross' shoulders relaxed slightly, but he glanced to the weapon wall again. "Choose something longer or that gives you more distance. That dagger may be something you're not skilled in or whatever, but... let's not have any..." 

"Fumbles...?" 

"Yeah."

Knowing his near fatal mistake turned the previous humorous atmosphere into something far more somber, Reaper simply nodded in silent obedience and was quick to replace the knife with a double bladed glaive. Due to training, he was generally pretty skilled with most polearms, but having two blades to worry about was something he was unused to. 

Hopefully, that would be good enough to please Nightmare when Cross passed on his evaluations. 

"I'll let your slip up slide, but don't let it happen again." Cross murmured, spinning his own polearm around to loosen up his high strung, tense form. "Remember, god, even accidents have consequences when you're a nightmare."

Reaper merely nodded again. As he readjusted himself and readied his chosen weapon; however, he couldn't shake his worry. "Geno...?" he asked hesitantly, requiring no more than the name of his first to form the question.

Cross watched him in silence for a long moment. "...Like I said, I'll let what happened slide. As far as I'm concerned, Nightmare doesn't need to know about it."

The relief that shook Reaper almost distracted him from the sparring partner before him, though movement and the flash of the metal polearm was quick to bring him back.

This time, the blows were almost brutally clean and efficient. They didn't banter as Error did with Cross, though the others also had years of familiarity they seemed to easily slip into. There were moments where Reaper stumbled with his grip on the weapon. He was used to being able to grab a non-bladed end for whatever purposes he needed, but the nicks and cuts in his hands kept reminding him that two short blades resided on his pole instead of the long, unbalanced, curved blade he was used to. 

Once Cross noticed the marrow that caused Reaper's grip to slip, he stopped. "You fight well for someone who doesn't appear to need it!" Cross nodded to him. "There's some gauze in one of the lower cupboards. Go ahead and wrap those hands. Error, go ahead and help." 

Reaper nodded, face flushed from the work. He took his weapon with him, determined to wipe some of his marrow off at least. "Gonna take a break, Cross?" Error asked. 

Ink stood there, facing Cross, though at the question, he tilted his head. "You probably should." 

He shrugged. "Five minutes wouldn't hurt while you wipe those hands." He rested his head on crossed fingers on one side of the pole and stared back at Ink. "I don't think I've ever seen you _whip_ one of those out." 

Ink grinned. "I just haven't used something like this in a while, but it'll be interesting to get a _crack_ in." He winced, glancing at his husbands. _Error's cleaning the wounds..._

"Heh," Cross raised a brow, though schooled his expression when Ink returned the look. "If you can make it make noise without hurting anyone in this room, I'll be shocked."

"Oh," Ink's grin widened, "I can make it do _more_ than that." 

With doubt clear on his face, all Cross did was shrug in response. He glanced over to the other two. "How is it going over there?" 

"Just finishing up some- ah there we go." Error nodded. "We're good." 

The god glanced over to Ink, but murmured to Error. "Does he actually know how to use that...?" 

"I have no idea..." Error sighed. 

Ink let the whip unravel by his side. He shook it, but his eyes were on Cross. A star and a crosshair, though both were a bright yellow-gold color. "Are you ready?" 

Straightening his spine, Cross picked the pole up again, holding it out defensively. "Of course." 

_SNAP! SNAP! SNAPSNAPSNAPSNAP!!!!_ Ink grinned at the shock on their faces. Even the slight surprise Cross was trying to hide. "Then let's dance." He cracked the whip forward. 

Defensively, Cross raised the polearm- and watched in dismay as the whip wound around it. Ink jerked the whip back, snatching the pole from Cross' grip. "Huh... Want to try again?" 

"Tch," Cross opened his hand, catching the pole when Ink threw it to him. 

Reaper fanned his face. "Error!" He hissed, "You never said-!" 

"I never _knew_ , you idiot!" 

The second round started, this time with Cross lunging forward. A flick of the artist's wrist forced him down, and another flick had the whip disarming him again. The third round lasted only seconds longer with Cross dodging more, but ended the same.

Finally, he frowned, "I said least favorite or least proficient." 

With a distant gaze, Ink murmured, "I don't like weapons. They're all my least favorites." He blinked, focusing on Cross. "The bullwhip is my least proficient." 

"Prove it. Pick any weapon up there and face me again." 

Ink shot his husbands a look. A look that Error knew instantly, of course. It wasn't one Ink sported often, mostly because he hated when the very look was thrown to him, but.. 

_Pity._

Cross didn't believe that Ink 's least proficient weapon was the bullwhip, so now Ink was going to have to embarrass the nightmare with countless other weapons. Ink replaced the bullwhip and glanced over the other selection. He picked up a heavy double-edged battle axe and faced Cross. Underneath the pale long-sleeve shirt, the three of them noticed Ink's rainbow ecto forming to better keep his bones together. 

He wasn't entirely... buff? Fit? Cut? If he'd put more effort into his body and shaping it however he wanted, he probably _would_ be, but Ink had some chub, from spending more time crunched over a desk or his lap drawing than doing push-ups.

That said nothing about the hidden _strength_ in those bones and shown through that ecto, especially when Ink wielded the axe with no visible effort. “Are you ready, Cross?” 

In response, Cross attacked. The pole aimed for Ink’s center, though Ink was quick to slash it away. Cross came back with the other side of the pole- 

Ink dropped the heavy, bladed side down and lifted himself above the axe, balancing on one hand effortlessly, smiling when Cross’ pole hit the staff of the axe instead of Ink. Being upside down now, his shirt fell downward- 

Well, Ink was an asshole. 

He pushed himself off from the axe, leaving it _and his shirt behind_ to stand just behind Cross. 

“Huh, so how is it that Error and I are shirtless but _you_ aren’t?” Ink tugged at Cross’ shirt, ducking when he swung at him too high.

"What is it with you people and trying to get me half naked?" Cross grumbled, just a hint of a whine in his voice. Eyes on Ink, he waited until the slightest twitch of muscle became apparent before lunging forward and lashing out.

Jumping back, Ink grinned through the slight pain of being clipped by the end of the polearm and shot Cross a flirty wink as he dodged his way back to his axe. "Half naked?" he repeated, a chuckle in his voice. Ducking under another swing, he darted a hand out and caught the end that barely skimmed the top of his skull. "Who said we wanted you to stop at _half_ nakedness? Don't you," his voice lowered to a sensual growl, _"want to go all the way?"_

Polearm forced still with surprising strength, Ink reached back, grabbed the axe, and effortlessly slashed forward at Cross with the bladed weapon.

His own weapon unable to be torn away from Ink, Cross was forced to abandon the blunt pole in order to push himself back far enough to avoid the hit.

Well, _almost_ avoid.

Although no bone was slice and no blood was shed, the axe came just close enough to leave a nasty slash through his tank top.

"...You _really_ want me shirtless, don't you?" Cross deadpanned.

"It would be a perk in this place," Ink wielded the axe in one hand and Cross' pole in the other. "But I don't mind cutting your shirt off, myself!" 

Cross studied the artist for a moment, noting the ease with which he carried the heavy battle axe in _one_ hand. For some reason, he thought about the enormous paintbrush the artist constantly used, and found himself remembering all them times his blade clashed against the artist's brush. How _heavy_ the damn thing was. 

_What the actual fuck...?_

Error busted up laughing, reading that exact question off his otherwise expressionless old friend. "You doing okay there, Cross?" 

"Shut up." 

"Want your _pole_ back, dance partner?" Ink cooed at him, starting to circle him. "Well, come and get it!" 

Cross scowled slightly more, but his mouth tugged up more in a grin.

"You know..." He began casually, running a finger across the tear in his shirt. "I wasn't too shabby before my time as a Nightmare, but Error over there taught me a lot. How to widen my horizons," he curled his fingers in the rip, "how to swipe food from AUs without being seen," the smile he shot them was pure _filth_ , "and how to play _dirty_."

With a loud sound of tearing cloth, Cross _ripped_ the ruined shirt straight off his torso. 

For a split second, Ink faltered at the sight of fully revealed _abs_ and pants that hung a lot lower than he first realized. Stars-!

Before he could even blink, Cross was in his face with that wide, attractive smirk and sending a curled fist straight into the ink stain on his cheek.

Ink straight _crashed_ to the ground. There was nothing graceful about the way his limbs went every which way, or the way the weapons dropped from his slackened grip. He sat up, dazed, and found himself staring wide-socketed at the now-shirtless Cross, as he casually lifted the axe and the pole and- 

_Stars...._

The ecto-muscles on his _back...!_ And not a single scar marred the former guard's back. But the tight, rippling movement in his shoulders as he encountered resistance with the axe. His lower back tightening to counter the resistance. The small of his back, just before his pants- 

Ink found himself floundering for a sketchbook. Annoyance flared through him when he remembered _why_ he didn't have a sketchbook on him. 

Cross tossed the battle axe far from Ink and faced him with the pole again. "Pick another weapon." 

A whine escaped the artist before he could stop himself. 

_Every single scar Cross owned was on his chest, his biceps, his forearms, his abdomen_... there were some that made him question how the nightmare was still alive. 

"Excuse me," Cross' smirk widened even as a blush appeared on his face, "My eyes are up here?"

"Oh, I know..." Ink murmured, eyes slowly trailing lower rather than raising to meet the other's stare. Stars, who cared about looking into a pair of eyelights when those _abs_ were _right there?_ And those striking, defining lines leading into his bottoms... "Just a little lower," he urged, noticing how the loose fitting clothing seemed to be slumping down a bit more. 

"Artist?"

"Hmm...?"

 _"Artist_ , your next weapon?"

Error sighed at the actions of his first, thought the amused smirk on his face was hard to miss. "Careful there, rookie. I think he's a step away from suggesting you battle with your tongues."

"Hmm, now that's not a bad suggestion, Ru..." 

"Absolutely not." 

Finally, Ink sighed and met Cross' gaze. "Alright let's change this up. _You_ pick what you'd expect to be my least proficient weapon. Three chances." 

"...are you making a deal with me...? Because there isn't much I can give you _if_ you win." 

_"When_ I win," Ink corrected with a grin. "When I win all three rounds, I want..." his smile faded slightly. _What... what did he want...? To get out. Obviously. To protect Geno. To protect his **family**. To let Dream know what's going on. To rip Nightmare's fucking **SOUL** out-_ He dropped his gaze. "I want Reaper to have coffee and Error to have a knitting needle." 

"And if I beat _you_ in any one of them?" Cross raised a brow. Not a yes or a no, but a consideration. 

Ink returned his look. "What would _you_ want?"

Cross paused. "I..."

Slowly, the half naked, scarred skeleton slid his gaze to the side.

Error met his eyes with a raised brow. "What?"

"...I want Error to stop calling me rookie." he grumbled, face still tinted with lavender. _"And_ I want him to admit I'm a better fighter."

Ink turned to Error with a grin, but his first growled, "No. Not a chance." 

The artist gripped his chest in mock offense. "My husband doubts my skills?!" 

"I doubt your _focus_ , asshole! You're going to get distracted and fuck it up!" 

Cross smiled as innocently as he could. "My old friend thinks I'd resort to such low tactics?" 

Reaper chuckled. "You already have." 

"Hm... fair point." He shrugged. "Well, if Error accepts the conditions for when _I_ win-" 

"Ink, you better fucking _win_ or you and I are gonna have a talk." 

"Oh!" Ink whirled to Cross. "I also want you to stop calling me artist! My name is _Ink."_

Cross fidgeted slightly, glancing towards the weapons instead of looking at him. "I know your name, but it's..." he sighed. "Fine. Only if you win." 

Ink practically vibrated with excitement as he waited for Cross to pick his first weapon.

Narrowing his eyes at the options laid out before him, Cross thought over what he knew about Ink's usual style of fighting. Then again, how much would his analysis help? Ink already proved he was more than capable with most, if not all, of the selection they had.

Still, he had to pick.

Coming to a stop, he slowly reached out and ran his hand across the gleaming blade of a sai. Grabbing it and it's twin, he expertly spun the blades in his hands before carefully tossing them at Ink. "Here."

Ink caught them easily, flipping them in his hands to test their weights for a moment. His lights flicked up at Cross, brows raised slightly. "Alright." his grin widened and he dropped into a stance reminiscent of several action anime that Cross had seen. 

But when the new second didn't move, Ink did. His lights flashed into gold crosshairs, and he lunged with his left. Cross went to slam it aside, just _barely_ noticing Ink flipping the right blade so the hilt faced Cross. He dodged what would've been a bruising blow to his ribs. He flipped the pole, trying to dislodge the sai from Ink's grip. 

Instead, he found it caught between the two of the tongs. Cross narrowed his sockets and grinned. "Smart." 

"Aww, thanks~!" 

Cross shoved him backwards, using the momentum to free his pole and swing it towards his head. An easy duck, and the artist swiped at Cross' ankles with his own foot, and the guard jumped back. 

It continued as such. Swipe, trap, retreat, slash, parry, slash, dodge. Until the two were breathing harder. 

"Gotta say," Ink puffed out, "I'm _really_ enjoying this little dance-" this time when Cross swiped, Ink caught it with one hand. "But aren't you bored of seeing me with the sai?" 

Cross stared, narrowing his eyes. "You're expecting me to gift you this victory?" 

"It's already mine, I was just hoping you'd admit it for yourself."

"....Fine." Cross sighed, knowing when to accept defeat. Besides, they were slowly running out of time. From what he knew of their schedules, Killer was approaching having some free time and the last thing he wanted was for the irking skeleton to stick his nosey head into the room in hopes of causing trouble. "Put those back. I'll select something else."

Grinning cheerfully at his victory, the artist winked at Cross before turning and giving a dramatic bow in his husband's direction. "Thank you, thank you~" he sang, brightening as Reaper humored him with enthusiastic applause. 

Error booed. "Kick his ass, rookie!"

"Ru," Ink whined, returning the sai to their correct places, "you're meant to cheer for _me!_ Besides, I thought you didn't want him to win?"

"I don't, but he can still kick your ass _before_ losing."

"You make it sound like my loss certain." Cross grumbled, absentmindedly rolling his shoulders to relieve a bit of tension as he tried to decide on the final weapon. Slowly, he looked up and down every row of presented to them. "...Hm..."

"Can't decide what you want to lose to?" Ink asked with a cocky smile.

Mistmatched eyelights glanced in his direction. "...Thumbs."

Ink's cockiness gave way to confusion. "I... w-what?"

"Thumb wrestling." Cross said blankly. "It's a thing."

"Are... are you serious?" _Thumb wrestling? Really?_

Amazingly, Cross's bland expression broke; a wide, shit eating grin spreading across his face. "No, I just wanted to knock that smug expression off your face." But he still didn't select a weapon. Instead, he curled his hands into fist and got himself into a starting position. "Hand to hand seemed to work, so how about it, _artist?_ Want to get _physical_ with me?"

Stars nearly exploded out Ink's eyes. "Oh _do_ I ever..." 

Error cursed, leaning over to Reaper, "I wish I had my camera. This is going to be fucking _funny."_

Reaper looked between his husbands in surprise. It honestly never occurred to him that Ink would be so _good_ at fighting. Was it something he was passionate about...? The god focused more on Ink, seeing the tension in his body as he rolled his neck and shook his hands out. It... kind of _looked_ like the artist was having fun, but was fighting _fun_ for him, or...? And with his empathy...

Well, this will be interesting. 

Ink grinned at Cross. "You couldn't wait to get your hands on me, huh? Not even going to take me on a little movie date first?" 

Cross, already slightly regretting his choice, smirked back. _Maybe if you-_ he cut the thought off abruptly as Ink inched closer to him and swung at his chest. Cross easily deflected the blow. Ink went with the deflection, lacing his fingers around Cross' fist. His back was to the guard, and he brought his free elbow and rammed it into his ribcage. Easily, he hefted Cross over his back. 

_CRASH_

Cross found himself staring up at Ink. 

Ink grinned down at him, dropping his knee hard on the other's sternum, he grabbed the other's wrists in his hands and pinned the guard to the floor. 

There was a moment. Just a brief moment, where Cross' shell cracked and Ink's victorious grin froze.

_Pink_

_**Pink** , like the blossoms of a cherry tree. Such a soft, beautiful, **innocent** color._

_And it was coming from the person underneath Ink..._

_And it was-_

Cross swung his legs up, wrapping them around Ink's torso, nearly kicking Ink in the head at the same time. The shield was back up, but the color seemed to stick to Cross' lavender ecto. Ink growled, moving the knee on Cross' chest to between his legs. He pried them apart and ducked away. 

Just in time to see Cross literally leap to his feet and lunge after him, fists flying, feet aiming to trip him. Ink dodged all of them effortlessly. Dodge, dodge, parry, dodge, stepping back and back and back until his back hit the wall. Cross slammed his fists on either side of Ink's shoulders. 

Sockets lidded, Ink purred, "Are you trying to seduce me...?" 

"I'm trying to _win-"_

"My affections?" 

Cross stuttered, and Ink slammed his head into Cross', knocked his arms away with his own forearms, and tripped him as he fell. This time, when Ink pinned him, Ink sat on the other's hips and both of Cross' wrists in one hand. He grinned down at Nightmare's second. "Gonna try and hug me with your legs again?" 

Cross' face was purple. "You win!" he said too quickly. 

And when Cross squirmed just slightly, Ink realized why. 

_His ecto is formed which means-!_

Ink _leapt_ off Cross, practically shouting, "Pick the third weapon, asshole!"

Blushing brightly, the ex-guard stuttered, "L-let me see how you handle my- _swords._ Just...just swords. Pick whichever one you'd like." At this point, he just wanted to finish this up and hide away until dinner.

Ink shot him a _look_ , "Are you fucking _sure_ ab-" 

"Yes, go grab whatever blade you-" Cross ground his teeth together. "Grab a fucking _sword_ from the _weapons pile_ and _lose_ to me, dammit." 

To the side, Error was doubled over, his whole body shaking with laughter. Reaper even had to admit this was funny. It... it _almost_ made him forget... 

As Ink perused the selection of _swords_ they had, he couldn't help but loudly comment, "Should I choose a long or short one? Or does it not matter so long as I know how to use it?" He slid lights to Cross, delighted to see Cross become even more flustered. "Because believe me, I know how to handle a _sword_ , Cross." 

Cross stormed to him, putting on the fiercest, angriest expression he could muster. He seemed to be piling on the defenses around his emotions, because if Ink didn't know what he was thinking the first time, he _really_ didn't know now. He grabbed two double-edged swords, shoving one towards Ink before storming away and facing him again. 

"Ooo, not going to do a curved blade? What are you-?" Ink instantly blocked the downwards strike, side-stepping to allow the rest of the force behind the attack to hit the ground. Cross hissed at him, throwing his elbow out, watching it get caught by Ink's free hand. "Hehe, do you moisturize?" 

Cross narrowed his sockets and stepped away, twirling Ink's blade with his own before crashing the blades against each other so hard that Ink had to take a step back to balance.

Ink sprung backwards, smiling. "So, we're **cross** ing blades now. You sure you want to keep the terms of our deal as is?" 

Against his better judgement, Cross snorted with laughter. "Dammit, I'm not going to let you win." 

"Will it hurt your poor little delicate man ego?" 

"Will it hurt _yours?"_

Ink shrugged, a somber tone drifting into his otherwise careless voice, "I don't have an ego anymore. Haven't for a _while."_ He stepped forward, and each performed a sword dance that, honestly, almost looked choreographed. Each swipe and parry and sound of impact almost made a sort of music. 

Reaper and Error found themselves entranced. 

Up until Ink got in close to Cross. Within a split second, Ink had disarmed the guard, and had his own sword resting against his neck. 

Cross stared at Ink. One moment. Two. Three. He glanced away. "You win. Again... Ink."

A bright, expressive half-rainbow of color poured out from Ink's SOUL and filled his vision. _Pride, excitement..._

And at the mention of his name, _Joy._

It was... unexpected. 

It was _nice._

Every color he felt was reflected in the pleased blush that spread across his face alongside his bright, victorious smile. A variety of yellows, bursts of oranges, a hint of purple from the pain in his cheek... each color cycled across his face before his happy, prideful flush settled on his normal multi-colored hue.

Hidden far beneath multiple walls, a pretty pastel bloomed within Cross' own SOUL. "Good job." he murmured quietly, stepping back and wiping sweat from his brow. "For today, our training is over. Until dinner, you're free to do whatever you wish within the confines of your hall. Dismissed."

Ink flipped his blade and offered it to Cross with a half bow. Cross stared at him, feeling that... that _emotion_ growing more. He took the blade from the artist and watched him literally _skip_ over to his husbands. 

Error swung an arm around Ink's middle, grinning up at him. "I knew ya could do it." 

"You were cheering _against_ me!" Ink complained. To which Error laughed. 

Reaper retrieved Ink's shirt, glancing once to Cross before following the others out. 

Cross looked out at the weapon selection. _Truly proficient in all of them, huh...?_


	45. Cool Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the husbands try to have a talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger Warning** : Panic attack and unclear flashbacks

After a well-needed shower, the husbands decided to chill in Error's room until dinner. Ink looked to Reaper with concern when the god didn't speak up during any conversation. "Reaps...? Are you...?" 

"..." Reaper fiddled with the edge of the blanket he was under. Finally, he murmured, "I'm worried about Geno... stars, I doubt I'll _stop_ worrying about him... but now I'm worried about you two, too." 

Error frowned. "Us? What do you mean?" 

The god sighed. "Ru, you used to live with them. And Ink, your... you're a lot more than just _skilled_ with weapons. It's... it's like you...?" 

Ink hid his clenched fingers in his lap. "Like what, Reaps...?" 

"Like you love weapons. Like you love _fighting."_

Error slowly slid his gaze to Ink. "....I noticed that too..."

A denial was on the tip of Ink's tongue.

It didn't get much further than there.

It wasn't something he necessarily put much thought into, but... "I..." Ink began. He... couldn't finish. 

Reaper frowned slightly. "Ink, you were having _fun_ today. You were showing off, too. That's... babe, I've only ever seen you get that excited over art."

"He's right." Error murmured, recalling the sunny smile and rainbow hue Ink wore after his victory against Cross. "You got pretty into it, Inky. _Really_ into it, actually. We only needed to try our hands with a single weapon each, but you goaded Cross into, what, _five_ separate fights? Six? Fights with weapons I didn't even know you could _wield_. How long have you been keeping that a secret for?"

 _I...I don't know_ , Ink thought, and the impact of the statement hit him hard. He _doesn't_ know, he realized. Ink...

"I've never held an axe." he whispered, and it sounded like a lie even though he couldn't remember ever grasping one before. "I... I'm _sure_ I haven't. Or a set of sai. Or... o-or..."

He thought of the certainty he felt when gazing upon the weapon filled racks of the training room. One glance and he knew he could use every option open to them as easily as he used his brush. At the time, he didn't question the why.

Now, that question was all he can think of.

"I...I didn't know." When did he learn to hold a sword? Why does the thought of the whip make him shudder? How does he know how to fight with all those weapons when all he can recall is the perfect fit of Broomy in his hand? "Guys, I-!"

He doesn't know what to say.

He doesn't know the how or the when or even the why.

Helpless, he turned his gaze to his husbands. Distractedly, he wondered when that very gaze had dropped or got so blurry. "I had fun." And that... yeah, that much he could say. "I... fighting with Cross was fun, but I... I don't _like_ it. Not when losing means a world can end or lives can be lost. It was.... With Cross-!"

"...There's no stakes in sparring." Reaper murmured, trying his best not to think of what his earlier mistake could have caused had Cross not been so forgiving. "So, if any of those fights had been to determine someone's life? Whether they lived or died?"

A pale color bleached Ink's lights. "N..no..." killing someone...? _I... I'm a **pacifist**...!_

_But do pacifists know so many weapons? Do pacifists **enjoy** using those weapons...?_

Ink clenched his fists to stop them from shaking, but with the close proximity his husbands are, they had already noticed. 

"No..." he whimpered softer. "I'm not a fighter, I'm not a killer, I'm not a warrior...!" _Why?! Why do those feel like **lies**?!_ "I'm... I'm a protector...! I'm an artist, I-!" Ink went to cover his face, but froze. 

_Blood and dust dripped between his fingers. "See...?" the voice purrs. "I knew you had it-"_

Just as quickly, the image was gone, and all Ink could remember was panic and **fear.**

Ink dug his sockets into his palms, shaking harder. Tears flowed, as he repeated, "I'm a protector, I'm **the** protector, I'm not a murderer...!" each round, the artist seemed more and more unsure of himself. His voice broke, too, until he was silently sobbing. 

Error looked as bewildered as Reaper felt. They exchanged glances of _What the **fuck**...?!_, uncertain of how to comfort him.

Feeling at fault for his husband's breakdown, Reaper was quick to utter an apology that Ink didn't seem to hear. Concerned, he drifted forward and kneeled at Ink's side; unsure hands hesitating over his form. "Inky? Honey? I... I'm sorry, babe. I shouldn't have asked that. I'm sorry." Quieter, he whispered, "Ink, out of the three of us? You're the last one in line for being considered a murderer. I'm second."

"Hey." Error protested, but there was no real heat or complaint in his voice. Just worry. "Inky... can we touch you?"

Hesitantly, Ink nodded. He...

_-screams as claws drag up his legs. Up, up, up they go, leaving deep gouges and leaking marrow behind-_

Choking on a sob, he threw himself into Reaper's arms. Pink, suddenly, he's desperate for it, so he clings to the god, clenches his eyes shut, and all but dives into the pretty, soft, and gentle hue his husband always has ready for him. _Pink, like cotton candy. Like candy floss and bubble gum and every soft, sweet thing no one would ever think to associate with Reaper._

Chest heaving with his cries, he drowned himself in the color until the flashes of ugly marrow stop appearing behind his tightly shut sockets.

Error wrapped his own arms around the both of them, and Ink let himself get lost in both of their pinks. 

Finally, _finally_ , the only sounds from Ink were his breathing and the rustling of clothes as he wiped his eyes, and murmured an apology to them. 

When he pulled away, there's almost nothing of the confident, _proud_ star that stood victorious before Cross. His shoulders have dropped, and there are shadows under his sockets, and smears of inky tears all over his face and hands, and staining Reaper's clothes. And he doesn't look either of them in the eye. "How much longer do we have before dinner...?" 

"Half an hour," Error murmurs. Cautiously, he cupped Ink's left cheek and tilted his head to look at the inky birthmark. 

And the discolored bruise forming around it. 

Error sighed. "Alright... you need to wash your face and hands again." 

Reaper squeezed Ink's hands gently. "We're here if you want to talk, just..." he frowned slightly and pressed a kiss to the other's sorrowful grin. "Whatever it is, okay?" 

Ink didn't look up, instead murmuring, "I just don't _remember why_ I...." he shook his head, turning the beginning of a confident smile on them. "I'll be okay. _We_ will be okay!" _We have to be... right...?_ He slid out of the bed, murmuring, "I'll go wash up again, I'll be back." 

Once the door closed, Reaper and Error exchanged glances. "Something's up," Error nearly whispered. 

"Ya _think?"_ Reaper frowned.

Annoying with the tone, the destroyer matched Reaper's frown with a scowl. There's something tense in the god's expression that stills the snappy comment he's ready to shoot off, though. A strain at the edges of his sockets and tilted smile. "Are _you_ okay?" he asked worriedly.

The god sighed, "I'm... fine. Not great, but not terrible either. I'm just..." _worried about Geno, worried about Ink, and you, and-!_ "...coffee." he finished lamely. 

Error frowned, but let the partial lie go. For now, Ink was the bigger concern. "Sometimes, certain words or triggers will make Ink remember shit, but... but he's never reacted like _that_ before. The crying? The fit he just had? It's not normal."

"He was worried about being a murderer... do you think it involved Aftertale? He was being pretty hard on himself for failing to save it."

Uncertainly, Error shook his head. "He hasn't forgotten Aftertale. Whatever he remembered, it's unrelated. And it's already back out of his head."

"...And if it comes back?" Reaper asked, eyes dark with dread.

The destroyer slumped. "I don't know. If he has another episode, we'll just have to try to help." But Ink... Error sighed, "That is, if the fucker doesn't try to hide it." With the way their family handled issues, it was likely. 

Very, annoyingly likely.


	46. The Gift of Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the king bestows a gift.

Cross collected the husbands right on time. He was freshly showered and wore his fine dinner threads. His shields and mask were on, and it was impossible to tell that he'd seemed to enjoy the sparring session too, but he offered each of them a nod when he says their names, "Error, Ink, Reaper. Time for us to go." 

He led the way to the dinner table. As with the previous nights, the three followed single-file, no touching. This time, it's Ink sitting in the spot closer to Nightmare, Error closer to Cross, and Reaper in between. It doesn't take long for Killer, Horror and Endure to make their ways in and sit down. 

It _does_ take a little longer for Nightmare. _The dramatic ass_... Once again, he's dressed to the nines with no indication of Geno anywhere on him. He surveyed the others before smiling and sitting down. 

Though the dinners are right in front of them and covered, Nightmare still took the time to look over everyone and their appearances. The husbands obediently stare at the table and wait.

Surprisingly, Ink's bruised cheek goes ignored. Seated next to the lord of despair as he is, there was nothing shielding the ugly splotch of darkened colors from Nightmare's view. Ink fully expected an irking comment or two to be thrown his way.

Instead, the king of the castle simply smirked slightly in his direction before turning to his covered meal. "I'm sure you're all feeling quite peckish today, but I'm afraid you'll have to wait a bit longer before being allowed to eat."

"What?!" Killer shouted, nearly slicing open his palm on his knife as he slammed both hands on the table. "Nighty, c'mon! What's the reason tonight? Talking? Because lemme tell you something you may not know: People _can_ eat while someone monologues!"

His complaints were answered with an icy glare, though the cold look came from Cross. "Simply being the youngest nightmare isn't an excuse to act as a child, Killer. Sit down, settle down, and keep your mouth shut."

A warning look from Nightmare had Killer rushing to obey Cross' command. Nodding in approval, the king of the castle slid his gaze all across the table to ensure that no other complaints or comments would be made before turning a charming smile to the trio of skeletons.

"I was informed of your successes during today's training. Well, _one_ of your successes, at least. God, Error," Nightmare's smile dropped slightly. "I expect an improvement of today's chosen weapons by the end of next week. Still, neither of you did horribly. As for you, artist? Cross tells me you're rather skilled and that... pleases me. It's quite _impressive,"_ he purred.

At the ending compliment, Error stiffened. Across the table, Killer and Endure tossed jealous looks Ink's way.

Nightmare chuckled at the vile jealously that, to him, tasted so sweet. "The thing is, I like to reward excellent work, artist. As your king, seeing improvement pleases me, but being told of such talent excites me. I want to see more of it, so I'm going to encourage you. Think of tonight's dinner as...a gift, I suppose. One the god and Error may enjoy for the night as well, though know this prize for today's work is _only_ to be given for the night. I want it back come tomorrow morning."

The trio of husbands shared a look. _A gift from Nightmare...?_ Knowing him, there was a very big possibility the so-called gift would likely end up being more of a curse.

As if reading their thoughts, Nightmare chuckled. "I'm sure you'll all enjoy my kindness. If you don't; however, then I can always send it away. What a shame though, for the extra plate Horror had to set out to go to waste."

An extra-?! More than three sets of eyes glanced at the only available seat; the one at the other end of the table, straight across from Nightmare. Sitting innocently before the empty chair was yet another covered plate of food.

Just as Endure's mouth opened to voice his confusion, three knocks were given from the door leading to the kitchens.

Nightmare grinned. "Ah, there's the prize. Enter, Geno."

The trio almost _almost_ left their seats. _**Geno...!!**_ A warning glance from Cross had them fidgeting restlessly instead. Slowly, the door creaked open, and Geno's small frame stepped through. Again, he wore a dress, though this time, it seemed... modest? It covered his collarbones and stretched down to his elbows. There was a decorative belt around his waist, and the dress flared out almost dramatically from there in a beautiful flowing fashion. 

Honestly, it was a style Geno probably would've picked for himself. 

But that _color_.... 

Upon closer inspection, the husbands noticed that there was an underskirt that flared the dress out more from the waist. Where the top part was a darker blueish purple, the underskirt was a poison green color. There was a stitched symbol over Geno's chest- 

_Nightmare's crest._

But the husbands' anger at Nightmare's apparent attempt to claim Geno was nearly drowned by the excitement and relief to see that Geno seemed to be okay. 

Even with his hesitant steps. And the way he fiddled with his fingers in front of him. And the way he kept his gaze down as he made his way to the empty seat between Error and Cross.

Careful of the flared skirt of the dress, Geno seated himself at the end of the table and neatly folded his hands on his lap. Hidden beneath the table as they were, no one was able to see the way he nervously picked at his own bone at the innocent sight of a steak knife placed at the side of his plate. _It... it's okay_...

Frightened, he looked away from it, hands aching slightly from the cut he was digging into his palm. 

"Geno..." Reaper crooned, the prettily spoken word a soft, gentle whisper.

At the sound of his name being called by his first, Geno's neutral smile reflexively twitched up into something happier. _Reaper_... Orders in mind, he kept his eyes down, but the urge to look up and meet the god's gaze was strong. _Not until **he** says I'm allowed,_ he reminded himself.

"Now that our guest for the night has arrived, you may all eat."

Everyone was quick to uncover their meals, but only the willing nightmares were overjoyed by the sight of the meal presented to them. The now quad of husbands, on the other hand...?

 _Potatoes, the asparagus_... Ink's eyes roamed the rest of the plate. ... _the mushrooms in the sauce, too. Those can be eaten without a knife_... but the perfectly seared steak that made up the majority of the meal couldn't. 

A quick glance at Geno's dismayed expression told the artist that the glitch was thinking something along the same lines. _I'm too far away from him._

Thankfully, Ink wasn't the only one concerned about the smallest skeleton's meal. Seated closer to him than Ink or Reaper, Error waited until no one seemed to be looking Geno's way before discreetly switching out their plates. Before the destroyer, an intact steak sat on his new plate.

When Geno looked over what his brother passed him, he found the meal on his place neatly cut up into easily edible pieces. 

His small smile widened, nervous picking at his hands coming to an end.

Reaper, though desperately wanting and wishing he were closer to Geno, understood deep down that he probably _can't_ because of- he looked down and started cutting into his own meal. 

The dinner starts off nice. Quiet. Though the quad has about a million and a half questions to ask each other, they're happy to get this moment with Geno. Proof that he's okay. 

_All because Ink **impressed** Nightmare_... Error can't help but think. He looked across the table to where Killer and Endure were still shooting glares at Ink, and to Ink, who appeared to be oblivious. _Course he's not oblivious_... Error flicked his eyes back to Horror. "You've outdone yourself. What kind of steak is this?" 

"Cow," he grinned, his overlarge light sliding curiously to Cross.

Who had stiffened slightly with a bite of mushrooms in his mouth. He chewed slowly, swallowed, then practically _attacked_ the steak. 

Error chuckled and shook his head.

Once again, Ink ate his meal with a bite of everything per forkful. And once again, Killer shot him disgusted looks. Endure.... 

Ink could tell the Papyrus had conflicting emotions, but he couldn't tell which one was winning. 

He was... surprised to see Geno? Nervous that he was here? Still furious with Error and Ink. Honestly, Ink found that last one a bit boring now, but he didn't fully disregard it, just in case. 

The artist... felt something- 

He glanced to Nightmare and met his gaze. 

_The king had been staring at him the whole time...?_

Knowing very well that Ink finally realized where his attention was, Nightmare smirked and raised his glass in Ink's direction in a silent cheer before taking a sip. Wine again, judging by the red he licked from his teeth. "So," he purred after savoring the flavor of his chosen beverage, "how are you enjoying your gift, artist? I was considering a sketchbook, but something told me you'd prefer this more. Are you pleased?"

Ink broke their stare to look over Geno. He couldn't see nearly as much as he wished he could inspect with the modest, concealing gown his littlest husband wore, but the glitch _seemed_ okay. His cheek still had a touch of fading color and that mark on his neck had yet to heal, but... 

Feeling the weight of Ink's eyes as well as the stares from his brother and first, Geno lifted his free hand and wiggled his fingers in a wave. He still wouldn't look at them, but it was obvious he wanted to.

Eyes softening at yellows and pinks overtaking the dampening hues of Geno's nervousness, Ink turned back to meet Nightmare's singular gaze yet again.

"Yes," he murmured. _Thank stars he's safe._

"Be glad you get to enjoy the gift until morning, then. Cross will be returning it to it's room after you three are lead to the throne room tomorrow. Until then, enjoy. Most importantly..." Nightmare leaned in slightly, his voice dropping into a sensual drawl. "...remember this, artist. The next time your eyes light with rage, remember just how _sweet_ obedience can be. How lovely the rewards I offer are.” Raising his voice, he addressed the smallest skeleton. “Genocide, you have permission to interact with your loved ones as you would normally."

With that, the lord of despair leaned back in his seat and turned his focus to his meal. _I'm done with you_ , he didn't need to say as he enjoyed his meal and watched the proceedings of the table.

_"I love how obedient he is now! Like a housebroken little dog." A whistle sounded, alongside the sound of a hand patting a lap, and the violent tug of a collar, "Here boy!"-_

Ink couldn't stop the slight shiver that almost made him drop his silverware. Instead, he turned his attention back to Geno, who finally raised his eyes to see his husbands. Swiftly, the gaze passed from his brother, to the artist then to Reaper. And stayed there. Though Reaper seemed to sag in relief, worry was still etched under his sockets.

Ink bottled his emotions up, letting only a smile through. He decided to enjoy the moment as much as he could.


	47. Almost Like Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they are "okay".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger Warning** : Non-con touching, implied rape

The dinner ended, when Nightmare excused Killer, Horror, Endure, then himself. The dishes were cleared away, and Cross rose. "Follow me, you four. Single file, no touching, the usual." 

Ink took the rear, just behind Reaper. It wasn't a surprise to the artist that Geno walked between his first husband and his brother. Cross didn't seem to care, but who knew? 

They reached Error's room, with Cross opening the door. The four stepped through, surprised when Cross followed and shut the door. From his pockets came- 

Reaper gasped and nearly snatched the thin instant coffee sticks from him. Error seemed a lot less eager, but still softened when he saw the knitting needle in Cross' other hand. He didn't meet any of their gazes. "Geno's allowed the same rules as the rest of you tonight. A change of clothes to sleep in. Access to the kitchenette and bathroom down the hall. When tomorrow comes, I'm to gather the four of you to the throne room, where the obedience rules will be in place. No touching, no eye contact, no defiance." His voice softened minutely. _"...Ink."_

The hesitancy in his spoken name had the artist perk up slightly, "Yeah...?" 

Cross met his gaze. "You really did... leave an _impression_ with him..."

It was a neutral statement, but the hint of a "but" had Ink on edge. Cross looked to Geno, voice still softer, "Also, make sure this outfit doesn't wrinkle overnight. He wants you to wear it when you go back." 

Error murmured, "What about Reaps and I...? What's-?" 

"Like he said at dinner, the two of you will train some more until there's no hesitation with what you've chosen. You have a little over a week to do it." Cross placed a hand on the doorknob. "Goodnight." He opened the door and left- 

Reaper _instantly_ wrapped his arms around Geno, practically singing his name softly through tears.

Sinking into the familiar, warm embrace of his first, the glitch buried his face in the god's chest and breathed in all the scents he associated with his taller, deadly husband. Although he noted the heavy scent of coffee that usually clung to Reaper was less impactful, the undertones of crisp fall leaves and the iciness of a chilling winter's air were still prominent. 

Pressing himself further into Reaper's arms, Geno brought his hands up and clutched at the fabric over the god's back, though habit born of many shared embraces led him to avoiding Reaper's shoulder blades. As it was, that was a good thing, for the moment Reaper heard the small, muffled whisper of his name-Geno's first word of the evening-wings sprouted from his back and curled forward to hide Geno from the world.

"Geno," Reaper crooned, cheek pressed to the top of the glitch's skull.

Forgotten for the moment, Ink startled at the feel of a hand slipping into his own and turned to see the blurry expression on Error's face. _Wait, blurry...?_

Smiling slightly in understanding, Error reached up with his free hand and thumbed away the tears falling from Ink's ever-changing eyes. _Oh, he-_

Blinking, Ink swallowed a sob and squeezed Error's hands lightly. _I'm okay_ , he tried to say through the action. And he _was_. There was so much to worry over, but, in that moment, Ink was okay. Just... 

"Geno, Geno, Geno..." Reaper trilled, as if every utter of the glitch's wish would extend the time they had with him that night. "Stars, Geno..."

There was so much relief and worry and love and joy and- there was just _so much_ coming from Reaper; most of which was reflected in Error, Geno, and Ink's own emotions. It was staggering, but he could handle it.

The sound of a muffle sob reached Ink's nonexistent ears. When he blinked, more tears fell from his socket. Some of those tears definitely came from the overwhelming sense of relief in the room.

Most were because he was just so damn _happy_ Geno was here. Even if it was just for a few hours, even if he would have to go away for stars knew how long tomorrow... _Geno was here._

Error's fingers were trembling around Ink's hands. A quick watery glance saw tears of his own in the destroyer's eyes. 

"Move over, fucker." Error rasped, stepping forward and dragging Ink with him. "Let us get a damn hug in, too."

Reaper's laugh broke too much for it to be considered joyful, but the sound wasn't entirely sad, either. "Us? I thought you were against getting _physical_ with your brother?" he teased, wings retreating like feathered curtains to reveal the glitch nestled in his arms. 

Instead of gracing him with an answer, the destroyer reaching out and set a hand on his brother's skull. "Hey, glitch face." he greeted, voice soft in a manner meant for family alone.

Somewhat reluctantly pulling his face from Reaper's chest, Geno blinked the tears from his eye before turning in the circle of the god's arms to face the destroyer and his other husband. "Asshole." he whispered, smiling at the easy way the affectionately spoken insult slid off his tongue. 

Maybe it was silly, but he... he was worried. Scared, even. It was hard to tell how much time passed you by when you were surrounded by darkness with only a single light and a bit of grass for comfort. He tried counting the days by the meals he was fed, but...

_Hands skimmed up his hips, tracing the outline of his body as they roamed up to settle on his shoulders. "You're surprisingly healthy for someone who has eaten so little for weeks. Perhaps I ought to limit your meals more?"_

_Weeks...? That was-! It... no, that had to be lie. There was no way he was in here for that long. Not when the deal Nightmare spoke of for his husbands was meant to end after a month. He was being played with. Fooled._

_...R-right?_

But he wasn't allowed to ask. He had rule after rule thrown at him before being given the dress, and Nightmare made _sure_ he had a good reason to follow them.

Just the thought of some of the threats...

"Ge...?" Ink whispered softly, drawing him out from the distracted state his thoughts dragged him into. Eyes worried and cheeks wet, the artist stepped in closer and cupped his cheek. "Are you okay?" _Why did I see fear from you?_

Pressing into the warmth of Ink's palm with a pleased sound, Geno nodded. "I... I'm fine." When the protector moved in with his brother to get closer, he hesitantly reached out and stopped their approach with flattened palms to their chests. "I should change, if we plan to cuddle. My dress..."

_Cross looked to Geno, voice still softer, "Also, make sure this outfit doesn't wrinkle overnight. He wants you to wear it when you go back." His husbands and brother recalled._

Geno's memory was of a different warning. 

_As the zipper was done up on his dress from behind, teeth pressed to the back of his skull. Like the body looming so close to his back, the breath that ghosted his bone was uncomfortably warm as Nightmare murmured, "Wrinkle this dress and I'll drag you through the castle naked for ruining such expensive material."_

"I should change." Geno repeated, shuddering slightly at the remembered threat.

"Yeah... yeah of course..." reluctantly, Reaper let him go. 

Ink offered his arm, "Want me to show you the bathroom...?" 

Geno took hold, nodding and smiling. The two left, and Error glanced over to Reaper. 

The god's fists were clenched. "Why is he dressing Geno up like that? Why not just let him wear his clothes...?" 

"You heard the sunshine brother. It's all a game. Reaps..." the god looked over to see his worry echoed on Error's face. "I... I'm...." Error growled a little and crossed his arms tightly over his chest. "Let's just enjoy the night together. It's gonna be over faster than we want."

———

Coming to a stop in front of a door that looked no different from any other in the hallway, Ink silently hoped that his memory wouldn't act up as he announced, "Here," and pushed the wooden door open.

Thankfully, a gleaming, white bathroom was revealed. 

Shaking off the instinctive discomfort the blank walls and tiled floor brought him, Ink turned a showy, charming smile on Geno before leading him through the small doorway as if it were the entrance to an expensive, exclusive club. 

"Dork." Geno chuckled fondly, leaning into Ink's side as he hugged the protector's arm. A quick glance around showed that there wasn't much aside from the basics. Towels, cleaning cloths, soa- he stilled when his eyelight settled on the neatly folded fabric resting on the edge of the sink. "D-did... did you...?"

Silently, the artist shook his head. None of them knew Geno would be making a brief return that night, and it only occurred to him that they forgot to bring a change of clothes when he caught sight of the ones on the sink. Stars, there was even an empty hanger next to it. _For the dress._

Unease filled both artist and glitch. The fact that _this_ , of all minor things was planned...

Trying not to shake from just how unsettled he felt, Geno slid his arms away from Ink's and turned his back to the taller skeleton. "Can... can you unzip me?" _I want to get out of this dress **now**_ , though it was likely the clothing on the sink was chosen for him by Nightmare as well.

"Yeah..." Ink stepped forward slightly and unzipped the dress. He hesitated for a split moment. "D-do you... um... do you want me to stay here or...?" 

Geno murmured, "Stay..." _because I don't know if he's going to take me away when you three aren't here_... He shrugged the dress forward and carefully stepped out of it- 

Ink was glad his smallest husband was faced away from him. He wouldn't have seen the flash of red in his sockets. 

Of course, the glitch wore lace underthings in a similar color to the dress itself. Honestly, Ink was only a little surprised that he _had_ something on underneath, considering how Nightmare had _ripped_ the ones Geno wore when they first came here. And when Geno turned slightly, Ink's anger was confirmed by Nightmare's insignia on the side stitching of the lace. The artist glanced towards the neat pile of clothes as Geno hung the dress and zipped it back up. "Ge.... are you... um, is-" Ink's hands shook. "H-has he...?!" _hurt you...??_

Pausing with a hand hovering over the folded clothing on the sink, Geno tilted his head in confusion; a question in his eye. "Has he...?" He repeated, mulling the words over in his head. Shivering at the cold air in the bathroom, he took what ended up being a short, violet nightgown and slid it on over his head.

Just as he tugged it into place to settle a few inches above his knees, the realization of just what Ink was asking hit Geno. _Has Nightmare touched him, hurt him..._

_... **abused** him...?_

Chilled for more reasons than the cool air, the glitch was almost happy to find an equally short but warm robe he was able to slide on over the sleeveless nightdress he wore. "He...he hasn't, u-uh, _taken_ me." he whispered, shuddering at the foul phantom sensation of teeth on his neck. _I think he wants to, though..._

Ink watched him, worried, though he could tell he wasn't lying. But he was scared... upset. Geno hung the dress up on the shower's rack and turned back towards Ink. He couldn't quite muster up the brave smile he wanted, so he settled for wrapping his arms around the taller's waist and snuggling into Ink's warmth. Ink held him close, unable to form any words. 

_Stars, Ink missed him_... He tried to remember how long it'd been but... well, only a few days, right? Still hugging his smallest husband, he lifted him up onto his own feet and murmured, "I don't wanna let go, but we should probably go back now." Geno nodded slightly, and Ink walked them back, smiling a bit as Geno lifted his feet slightly with each step with Ink. 

When they re-entered the room, Error cut off whatever he was saying to look at them. Reaper smiled a little. It was easy to start ignoring the little insignias of Nightmare's, since they were on all of their clothes, but it was less easy when it was Reaper's first.

 _He looks good_... The little night gown, the matching robe... they suited Geno, but he couldn't help but hate just how lovely his first looked in the clothing. Geno wasn't some doll for Nightmare to dress up for his games, damnit. He wasn't _Nightmare's_ to do as he pleased with, no matter what the symbols stitched into his clothing said.

Feeling the rising anger within Reaper, Ink waddled on over to the god with Geno still on feet and pressed a kiss to his head. "We have a few hours." he murmured, smiling against the god's skull when pink blossomed within the red.

A few hours...

Dropping his head onto Ink's shoulder and releasing a quiet sigh, Reaper smiled slightly. "Cuddle pile?"

"I'd like that." Geno admitted.

The trio turned their eyes to Error, each with a silent yet clear question in their expressions. Despite their closeness as brothers, there was usually little to no reason for the glitch and error to drape themselves over each other when they had two perfectly willing husbands to do so with instead. Not to mention their cuddly children, too. 

But the last few days felt like months. Trapped in this hellhole, unaware if the other was safe... 

_A few hours_... Error's stomach twisted uncomfortably. ... _ **just** a few hours_. Who knew when he would see his brother next?

Discomforted by the thought, Error stepped up to the only family he had at the moment. "Cuddling sounds fine. I'll start breaking hands if either of you suggests anything _more_ , though."

"Mean," Ink whined, but his smile was knowing. As prickly as he could be, Error loved them too much to even consider such a thing. "Where do you want to be, Ru? We can fit you in the middle next to Ge?"

But the destroyer shook his head. It was obvious that, like Reaper, Ink wanted to be as close to the smallest skeleton as he could get. Error missed his brother and all, but he didn't need to be right up against him to reassure himself that Geno was safe. Having him near would be enough. 

"Get get situated, assholes. I'll climb in after you."

In the end, the four settled on the bed with Geno tightly wedged between a clingy Reaper and cuddly Ink with Error at the edge of the bed pressed up against the god's back. It was a tight squeeze-clearly, Nightmare intended for the bed to be meant for three-but they made it work.

Geno didn't mind being squished, anyways.

 _It's warm,_ he thought, smiling faintly at the quiet trilling from Reaper and the soft kisses from Ink. The save screen was- the **room** he was being kept in was cold. No pillows, no blankets... all he had was the single beam of light to curl up under for warmth, and not much could be soaked up from it. Being pressed between his husbands... _I want to stay here forever._

Unwillingly, his jaw began trembling faintly.

 _...I don't want to go back_. At the stinging sensation of tears attempting to fill his socket, the glitch hid his face in Reaper's chest; hopeful that the action would go ignored as him trying to soak up the freely given affection. _I don't want to be there, again._

Unbeknownst to the little glitch, his husbands and brother were thinking the same thing. For a moment, a crazy thought occurred to Reaper. _I can just take us and go. We can leave right now._

But Geno's SOUL was still hidden somewhere in the castle. Somewhere they haven't been or couldn't find. 

So he held his first closer, smiling just slightly when Ink made a small noise of complaint and cuddled more too.


	48. Of Nightmare and nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Inkstains are such a Killer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger Warnings** : Torture!, painful memories
> 
> Note: Another chapter that switches perspectives, this time between the trio and Geno!

The morning came way too soon, and the four of them tried to ignore the dread settling over them. Everyone changed clothes, and the god and the error held hands with the glitch. They murmured to each other, hoping to comfort the other, though Ink could tell none of them wanted this moment to continue. 

Not when the three knocks on the door sounded, and Cross came in. 

Not when they had to leave Geno in the room and walk to the throne room. 

And _especially_ not when the king of the castle himself was already situated on his throne.

Well aware that none were pleased with his early appearance, Nightmare grinned. "Good morning," he greeted, inspecting them all with his poisonous gaze. Finding nothing out of place, he raised a brow. "What's this? None of you enjoyed the gift?"

 _His name is **Geno**_. Ink smiled tensely. "We did."

Again, the king of the castle ran his gaze over their forms. "And yet I see no evidence. No marks, no glowing bone... To me, it seems as though you wasted him. The gift, I mean."

All at once, the trio were struck with the realization of just what Nightmare meant by his comments. 

Nightmare was implying he gave Geno back for the night _so they could sleep with him._

———

The silence in Error's room was unnerving.

In a way, it felt different than the quiet of the room he was being kept in. There, the silence was all he knew whenever Nightmare wasn't around taunting him, or Cross wasn't seated with him as he ate. It was something he expected; it was what he was used to.

Here, it felt... wrong. Lonely. Before they drifted off to sleep, conversation had filled the room. Murmured words, quiet, intimate laughter... it wasn't exactly noisy, but it was comfortable. 

Now, it was gone.

Shifting uncomfortably, Geno sighed and pushed himself up from the bed. Early this morning, even earlier before Cross' arrival, Error ran out and grabbed his dress. He wasn't yet clothed in it, but he might as well slip it on now.

Shrugging off his robe, he grasped the thin straps of his nightgown and readied to drop it.

Just before he could, a catcall sounded from the other side of the door. Jumping, he whirled around and found empty sockets staring at him through the hole in the door.

———

The trio tensed for more than one reason. Offense? Anger? Disgust? Ink had to shut his sockets to control himself before he spoke, "He's our _husband_ , not some... some _doll_ to be played with."

"You sure? You never know when you'll see him again." 

Ink met his gaze. "Twenty-four days or less." There was absolutely no uncertainty in Ink's voice. It was a **fact** in Ink's mind that they would somehow see Geno again either before the month was over, or by the time the month ended. They would see him, and take him home. He wasn't going to stand for anything less. 

Nightmare's smile curled, and his eye stayed steady on the artist. "...of course..."

———

Geno froze, hands still on the nightgown straps. "Aww, why'd you stop?" Killer teased. "I was enjoying the show."

"G-go away..."

———

Error stepped forward, not liking the gleam in Nightmare's eye as he eyed his first. "What's today's mission?" he asked, ready to get whatever it was over and done with.

"Eager to please, are you?" Nightmare purred. Smirking at the disgusted look sent his way, he leaned back on his throne and eyed them all as he thought. "Hm, why don't we divide and conquer today? Artist, since you proved yourself proficient, you're to help the god master his new weapon. Error," the king drawled, "you can join them later. Before you do so, why don't you do a bit of cleaning?"

The destroyer's eyes narrowed. "The castle was cleaned just a few days ago."

"You remember how things are done, don't you? There's one room no one is allowed to enter without permission, even when the castle is being cleaned. It needs tidying though, so that'll be your first task for the day, old friend."

Ink had to resist looking at his first when fear all but _exploded_ around him. 

Nightmare smiled. "Do you recall where my personal chambers are located? Or would like me to guide you there?"

———

For a few seconds, the sockets visible through the hole disappeared. Before Geno could get his hopes up that the other complied, the unlocked knob of the door turned and Killer stepped inside.

"Nah, I think I'd rather stay." Killer grinned widely. "Don't let that stop you though. If you need to change, go ahead. I don't mind."

 _Like hell I'm going to-!_ Shaking his head slightly, Geno stepped back from the other skeleton and grabbed the short robe from the floor. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. Shrugging the robe back on, he eyed the other warily and continued retreating so that he was as far as he could get from the other.

"You... you're not supposed to be here." From what he understood, this area was meant for his husbands, brother, and Cross who seemed to be the one acting as their guide.

Apparently, his assumption was correct because Killer didn't disprove his statement. Instead, the dark, dripping eyed skeleton shrugged and smiled wider. "I won't tell if you wont."

"...And if I do?"

There was a quiet click. "You won't." Killer murmured, hand withdrawing from his pocket and presenting Geno with a sharp, gleaming-

Geno's eye light sputtered out in terror.

———

Ink's panic flared slightly with Error's fear. _What's in Nightmare's room that he's so scared of...?_ He wanted to reach out and comfort his first, especially-

_"Oh, that's an emotion I haven't felt from you in a while, brother. **Helplessness**. I like it. You know," dodging another vicious slash from Ink, the fake child grinned, "it's one of my favorite flavors. I savor it, though yours can't quite compare to my favorite source."_

_Dread settled in Dream's stomach like a rock. "Brother, stop-"_

_"Ink." Nightmare sobbed, bones stretching unnaturally as he transitioned from PJ's form to someone taller. "Ink," he cried again, voice deeper yet being broken apart by skips and glitches, "please, please save me." Error begged, tears dripping from his sockets. "Please, Ink, **save me.** I... I don't want to be here anymore! Please, Inky! Take me away from here! **Take me away!"**_ **He grinned. "Pathetic, right?"**

**Ink's fists curled at the memory, and he forced his gaze down at the floor. _What the fuck did you do to Error...?!_**

****

———

Killer lifted his head slightly with interest. "Oh? I was curious about you, but you're afraid of a little pork-sticker like this?" he stepped closer, excitement in his voice. "I have plenty more where these came from."

"N-no..." there was a pressure on Geno's chest. "No, s-stop it..."

Smile wide and full of a promise Geno didn't know of but dreaded all the same, Killer slowly stalked forward. "Guess how many I have on me right now." he demanded, expertly flipping the blade in his hand. 

Backing away, Geno shook his head. "S-st...s-sto-" he stuttered, failing his fight to get the words out. 

Killer clicked his tongued and mimicked the stutter. "S-s-stop," he whined, snorting in amusement afterwards and snapping the blade he held closed. "You sound like Error. All you're missing is the weird, glitching voice."

Geno's heart thudded in his chest. "G-go...go away...!" he snapped, eye on Killer's hand as he pocked the closed knife. To his horror, a bit of rummaging around produced another, sharper blade from the same pocket. 

"Aw, don't like my company? Too bad. I'm bored and, so far, you're the most interesting thing around. Now, c'mon. Guess." Killer urged, trapping him in the corner of the room and bringing his current knife up. With the blunt, flat end of the blade, he tapped Geno's cheek playfully. "Try to get the right answer. If you don't..." tilting the knife, he pressed a thin cut into the glitch's bone, "...I'll mark you up for every number you were off."

——— 

The delightful flavor of Error's terror settled heavily on Nightmare's tongue. All but purring at the taste, he ran the magical muscle over his teeth. As he did so, he was sure to catch the destroyer's eye. _I know you're afraid_ , he thought, _and I'm enjoying it very, very much._

Shuddering, the destroyer took a small step back. "I...I know the way..." _Don't come near me. Not ever, but especially not in **there.**_

"Very good. Best be on that then." With that, Error stepped back again and left down one of the halls. 

There was a... weird sound. A rattling. And when Reaper glanced to Ink in concern, the artist realized it was _him_. He shuffled through his feelings, noting the ebbing fear from his first husband as he walked away, but there was still- 

Nightmare nodded to Cross. "Go collect the gift from their room." 

Cross glanced up to him. "The god and the artist?" 

He slid his gaze back to the two in question, narrowing the eye on Ink's shaking form before looking back to Cross. "Why are you still here?" 

Frowning more, Cross inclined his head and made his way to Error's room. 

Reaper watched him leave and looked to Nightmare, who appeared to be studying them. "...artist, start explaining how to use a double-sided glaive to the god." 

Ink still trembled, and his gaze seemed distant. 

"I....Ink...." Reaper whispered. 

Panic made his eye lights white out. _He... he couldn't remember...!_ "A..." he coughed slightly, turning slightly towards Reaper, but avoiding both their gazes. "A glaive... double-sided..." he blinked several times. "It's... balanced."

———

Cross knocked three times on the door before entering.

The moment Cross saw Killer in the room, he had magic wrapped around the target SOUL and was flinging him across the room. Killer smashed against several built-in wall-shelves, shattering them, before dropping to the floor. He tried to get up, but the magic in Cross' sockets flared brighter, and the leaking skeleton wheezed out a cry of pain. "What the fuck do you think you're doing here?" 

"C-Cross!" Killer gasped. He tried for a laugh, but that only made the grip Nightmare's second had on his SOUL tighten. "I-I was j-just havin' some _fun!"_

Geno sunk to his knees in the corner of the room, gripping the robe tighter around himself as he watched with a single wide, light-less socket. 

"Having _fun_ , you said? What, getting bored of Horror now?" 

Killer squirmed, tightening his grip on his knife. "S-stop it..!" 

"Why? You weren't stopping when _Geno_ told you to. Or did you suddenly forget what Nightmare _explicitly_ ordered you?" 

"He orders too many things! How am I supposed to keep track?! OW! Dammit, Cross, stop!! Alright! Alright, I remember, you fucker! Don't touch him, I remember!" 

Cross' voice darkened. "Then answer for your disobedience with Nightmare." He stepped between them and released his hold of Killer's SOUL. The other wheezed and gripped his chest, glaring furiously at Cross.

Magic still crackled in the Second's eye, and when the outline of his sword shimmered nearby, Killer stood and scowled, "You're too soft on them, asshole. I don't care if you're the _second,"_ he spoke the word mockingly, "But you'll never be the same ruthless second that Error was." 

"And _you_ won't get a _chance_ at taking my place if I kill you right now," Cross murmured. 

At the door, Killer sneered. "You won't kill me. You don't want to be in trouble with Nighty-" 

Cross took a step forward, the outline of his sword growing stronger. "You _really_ want to bet your miserable little rat life on that?" 

Though fear had long since vanished from Killer's SOUL, his sense of self-preservation remained, and he backed up further. He snickered at Cross before leaving. Cross followed enough to close the door and drape his jacket over the hole in the door before he turned to Geno. "...are you going to be okay?"

———

"No shit, idiot," Nightmare grumbled.

But Ink was still blankly staring, as if he were listening- 

_Or feeling something_ , Reaper tensed slightly. "In-"

"It's balanced," Ink repeated. "Easy to control. Easy to defend from two sides." _Why was his voice so flat? Why was it taking so long for his words to form...?_ "But it's hard to jab at an opponent-" 

_"You have to slash them. From side-to-side. From top to bottom. It doesn't really matter, but slashing the opponent is going to be much easier and likely more effective than if you try stabbing them." Hands drifted around Ink's waist as a body pressed up against his. "Like this," the hands moved to cover Ink's own, and position the glaive in a defensive manner. "...good. Exactly." The body moved away and a figure stepped into Ink's view, holding their own glaive. "Now you're going to learn how to do this. Remember, you make a mistake you pay-"_

Ink snapped out of it when he felt Reaper's concern drift closer. "Ink? You stopped halfway-" 

"Night!" Killer stormed into the room, oblivious to the interruption. "Your dumbass _second_ attacked me!" 

Ink's gaze flashed to Killer. _You-!_ He wasn't sure why, but the artist felt an immediate hate wash over him when he saw the knife-loving skeleton.

Nightmare shot the artist an unreadable expression at the surge of negativity he felt, but ultimately ignored it in favor of turning his attention to Killer. Silently, he took note of the nightmare's disheveled appearance and the bruising appearing around certain areas of visible bone.

Then, he sighed, "What did you do?"

Killer jolted, "Wha-?! I didn't do shit!" he denied, expression scrunched with fury. "All I was doing was minding my own damn business when he started throwing me around like a fucking psycho!"

———

_When the resets reach the higher range of the triple digits, the demon child starts getting **bored**. So they experiment. They **play** as any child would, but in a much more horrific manner; substituting dolls and sandboxes with living, breathing monsters and **dust** to build their castles with._

_When they meet for yet another battle he knows he’ll ultimately lose, amused eyes meet his gaze. Instead of brown, they’re red; a perfect match to the crimson scarf he couldn’t find that adorns their little neck._

_“Sansy~” they call, grinning widely when he remains quiet. He has long since grown tired of uttering his usual spiel, and they know it. Usually, they tease him. This time is no different. “What? No comments about the birds? The flowers?” Twirling their blade around tiny, dust stained hands, they smile wider and catch the fabric of their torn scarf with the point. “Not even gonna mention my nifty new scarf?”_

_He’s tired. He’s so, so tired. Reacting to them has gotten old, but…_

_He’s grown used to wearing that scarf. His neck feels naked without it._

_**H e w a n t s i t b a c k** _

_So, without uttering a word, he starts their dance. Again. Always, always, **a l w a y s** again. At this point, he knows they can easily dodge. Still, they usually let themselves get hit. It’s more fun that way, they once said._

_Only, this time, they dodge. It breaks their routine and, for the first time since they started this hell, he’s surprised. That surprise makes him falter. Not for very long…_

_...but for **just** long enough that they’re able to get in close before he can react._

_Resigned, he shuts his eyes and waits for the end._

_“O-oof!” he gasps, air forced out of the lungs he doesn’t have when they go crashing into him. Eyes snapping open, he stares up at the demon wearing a child’s face in shock that earns himself a wide, unnerving smile._

_“You know, Sansy…” The tip of the knife prods somewhere just below his clavicle, but doesn’t press hard enough to wound. “You die so fast, that you and I never get to have any real fun. I’ve been playin’ around a lot lately, you know? And I found out something that’s kind of cool.”_

_He should shortcut away. Get some distance between them._

_He’s tired._

_Morbidly, he’s curious, too._

_They must know, because they begin to laugh. It’s high and youthful and so, so unnerving simply because it’s the sound of an innocent child’s laughter. “You see, Sansy… if I don’t intent to kill, if my **intent** isn’t getting rid of someone, then they last just a bit longer. Some, a lot longer.” When they draw their blade back, it gleams gold in the soft lighting of the judgment hall “So, let’s see how long I can get **you** to last. Let’s see how much **fun** we can have before intent isn’t enough to keep you from crumbling.”_

_He realizes then and there he should have shortcutted away._

_The blade swings down before he can fix his mistake._

_He screams._

_And he doesn’t stop for a very, very long time._

It had been at least ten minutes since Killer took his leave and Cross still couldn’t get the glitch to respond. He’d tried calling his name, prodding at him, shaking him, and, with some regret, even a hard strike in hopes that the hit would literally slap him out of whatever he was seeing with that haunted gaze of him.

When nothing worked, Cross cursed and began to pace around the room. It’s a mess from having thrown Killer about, but one glance to the frozen, sobbing skeleton curled up in the corner had him regretting that the room isn’t trashed more. 

“I should have thrown him harder.” he growled, eyeing the marrow-less walls. “Fucker deserves it, damnit. What the hell was he thinking? Nightmare-”

Cross froze. _Fuck, Nightmare…_

His expectations were clear: Geno was to be returned, dressed in the gown, and in _perfect_ condition. 

“...He needs to be informed of this.” Knowing Killer, the testy skeleton was in the throne room right now twisting the events that took place to suit his own needs. Nightmare wouldn’t believe him, but having to counteract the story would still be annoying.

Sighing heavily, he turned and made his way back to Geno. Kneeling down in front of him, he took a moment to observe the still glitch once more. _He’s still bleeding…_

A series of thin, red cuts were carved into Geno’s face, beginning from the bottom of his socket and following the curve of his cheek downward like morbid, bloody tears. Most ran down from the glitch’s only visible socket, but a few lines spawned from beneath glitch hiding Geno’s other eye.

In total, Cross counted seventeen bloody trails.

“Nightmare really, really isn’t going to like this.” he whispered, but even as he spoke the words to fill the silence of the room, what Nightmare was going to think was the last thing on his mind.

Hiccuping, Geno continued crying, though he wasn’t sure the glitch was aware of it. Tears continuously slid down the left side of his face, but no matter how much blood they washed away, more thin lines of red appeared to taint the salty water red.

Curled up in a ball, face a mess of blood and tears… dressed in nothing more than a thin robe and gown…

Cross shuddered, an odd heaviness in his chest from the sight. “Have… have you _always_ been this small?” he asked, knowing he wouldn’t receive an answer. Five days was hardly any time to get to know someone, but…

From what little interaction they had during Geno’s meals, Cross knew that there was a surprising fire to the shorter skeleton. He had a foul mouth when annoyed and always carried a spark of anger no matter how afraid he was when trapped in the room Nightmare was holding him in. He was…

He laughed at his shitty puns. 

He called him an asshole once and didn’t take it back, even if he knew Cross could turn his captivity into hell…

Geno had fire. Personality.

But now, he looked smaller than Cross ever realized he really was. 

“...I can’t leave you here.” He murmured, hesitantly reaching forward and pulling the smaller skeleton into his arms. He was… light. Whether that was natural or from the small meals he was fed, Cross didn’t know. “I…” 

Standing, he tried to shake off the regret stirring within him. The guilt was harder to rid himself of. _You’re just doing your job, idiot. Don’t_... Geno whimpered with his next sob. ... _don’t feel bad._

“...I need to take you to Nightmare.”

———

Every word the murderous Sans spoke was a lie.

Ink wasn’t the only one who knew this, either. As Killer continued to ran about Cross’ so-called unjustified attempt, Nightmare’s expression increasingly grew darker and darker. It was only when the dark-eyed, ever-crying skeleton began going in circles that the king of the castle finally put an end to his insufferable whining.

“Enough.” He demanded, amusement from Killer’s tendency to exaggerate his stories long gone. When his subordinate went to protest, Nightmare shot him a poisonous glare that froze him into submission with the help of sharpened tendrils aimed his way. “I’ve listened to your story for far longer than you deserved my patience. Tell me the truth now, Killer.”

“That is-”

“The _truth,”_ Nightmare hissed, “and it better be worth the interruption of my meeting. You know I dislike being off schedule.”

Crossing his arms with a slight wince, Killer looked away like a petulant child and heaved a great big sigh that only served to prove his immaturity. “I was just having fun.”

“He was breaking the rules.”

Before he even turned to face Cross as the other nightmare entered the room, Ink knew he wasn’t going to like what he would see. It wasn’t Reaper’s enranged shout that told him this, or even the darkening of Nightmare’s eye as anger filled the king’s expression. No, what gave it away was the sound of crying from a familiar voice…

...and the fear so strong it overcame his vision with a bright, blinding white.

“Geno!” Reaper screeched, stepping forward with wide, wild eyes.

By the time Ink managed to clear his vision and was able to push down the phantom pains in his cheeks, Cross was standing before Nightmare with a sobbing, bloodied glitch in his arms.

Instinctively, Ink took a step forward. Then another. And another. “Y...you…” he whispered, shaking with the aftermath of fear and pain that was not his own. “You…” his eyelights flashed red. Another step, mirrored by Reaper moving forward as well. “...You…”

Geno choked on a terrified sound, unseeing gaze spilling tears that made tracks in the blood on his cheeks. 

Something within Ink snapped. **“You liar!”** he screamed, unthinkingly marching up to the throne with crimson targets in his eyes. “You said you wouldn’t hurt him! You- you fucking promised us his safety if we-”

“Cross.”

Cradling Geno to his chest with one arm, Cross obediently spun and cut off Ink and Reaper’s approach with a crimson blade. “You’ll go no further.” he said coldly, something conflicted in his usually unreadable gaze.

“If you do,” Nightmare growled, “I’ll tear his fucking SOUL to shreds.”

“You said you wouldn’t hurt him!” Reaper shouted.

Nightmare snarled, “Address me with respect if you wish for that deal to be upheld, god. You as well, artist.”

“You lied..” Ink growled, _“sir.”_

The king shook his head. “Believe whatever you wish to, fool, but the truth of the matter is that I am not responsible for the wounds the glitch bears. Although…” slowly, his darkened gazed turned to Killer, “...I’m quite sure I know who is. Killer,” he drawled, voice cold, “care to explain?”

“Like I said,” the skeleton in question murmured, “I was just having fun.”

“Fun?” It could have been a trick of the light, but the area around the throne seemed to darken. “You had orders, Killer. Orders given directly from me to avoid the glitch **and to do no harm should you encounter him.** Tell me,” he snarled, “what _fun_ did you have with him? What right did you believe you had to toy with _my_ property?”

At the true anger from Nightmare, Killer began looking unsure of himself. “I… c’mon, Night. You never cared when I played with other prisoners.”

The king stood from his throne. “Those prisoners did not wear my crest.” he took a step forward. “Those prisoners were of no importance.” Another slow step. Behind him, pointed tendrils slithered about in the air with angry, restless energy. “Those prisoners **were not MINE!”**

“N-Night-”

“Tell me,” a tendril shot out and grasped Killer by the neck, “what. Did. You. Do?

“I-” Killer choked, “I j-just cut h-him up a bit! He was s-stuttering so m-much like Error used to w-when he got upset that I-” the tendril tightened, “I...I…” he wheezed, “I t-thought th...that...I o-ought to m-make them look alike, too. Th...they’re...br...b-brothers…” his vision began darkening, “...ri...right…?”

Suddenly, the tendril withdrew so that Killer dropped to the ground harshly where he choked and gasped for air. 

“Hands off my toys.” Nightmare spat, kicking him out of his path as he stalked back to his throne. “Cross, hand me my glitch.”

Neither Ink or Reaper could swallow their protesting cries when Geno was handed over to Nightmare. _Let us comfort him, damnit!_ Reaper thought desperately, kept from moving forward by the glowing blade aimed at them. 

“Nightmare,” Ink pleaded, deciding Geno was far more important than his pride, “please, let us-! Give him back, please. Just for a bit!” _He’s scared. He’s so, so scared._

Arms circled around the trembling glitch now seated on his lap, Nightmare stared at them coldly. “No.”

“Night-”

“I gave you your answer, artist.” Nightmare growled, foul mood increasing as Ink’s targets began boring into his skull. “Turn those eyes away from me or lose your sight. Better yet, turn that anger to the one who deserves it. I’ve been a kind leader, haven’t I? I’ve upheld my end of the deal, I rewarded your excellent work… rather than toss your ire my way, unleash it upon the one who caused it.” A disgusting smirk slithered onto Nightmare’s face. “In fact, you’d save me the trouble of having to punish Killer myself.”

“N-Nighty-!” Killer wheezed.

“How many cuts did you carve into Geno’s face?”

“N...Night…”

“Seventeen.” Cross answered, voice quiet as he watched the artist and god before him. Both stiffened at his answer. 

Blue sparked to life in Reaper’s socket. Within the darkness of his own, the red of Ink’s eyelights grew brighter; similar to the blood dripping down to ruin Geno’s nightwear.

“Seventeen bloody red lines, courtesy of Killer.” Nightmare murmured, anger behind his own words. “Aren’t you angry at _him_ , artist? Don’t you want to make him suffer like he made your dear, sweet Genocide suffer? Killer, tell us, did he scream as you carved into his face?”

“...Y..yes…”

“Did he try to fight it?”

“Y-yes.”

“Did you have to hold him down to get the lines in? A few look messy.”

Knowing he was screwed, Killer closed his eyes and shakily sighed, “...No,” he mumbled, “he… he stopped fighting after the fifth one. Got lost somewhere in his head.”

“But you didn’t stop?”

“No?”

Nightmare’s eye stared straight into Ink’s gaze. “One last question. Did you enjoy it?”

“...Yeah,” figuring he might as well face his punishment with some pride, Killer grinned; wide and pleased. “He screamed like a little bitch, you know? It was fucking funny.”

And with that, something in Ink **snapped.**

 _"He cried like a bitch that lost it's pups," one of them jeered, nudging Ink's broken body. "Stopped a while ago though. He lasted much longer than others!"_

"Seventeen, huh?" Ink's voice was deadly as his eye lights dragged from Nightmare, to Geno, then pierced Killer's empty gaze. 

"That's what I said." Killer sneered at him. "What, _you're_ going to punish me? Aren't you the _protector?_ You don't hurt people! You don't _punish_ people!" 

As if reading his mind, Nightmare spoke up, "Do what you need to to him, but don't kill him, artist." His gaze flicked to Reaper. A silent warning to back off. The god shuddered with barely restrained fury and stress, but did so. 

Killer was still going on, "Though, I guess you aren't much of a protector are ya? How many worlds have fallen to us? And-" 

Purple burst in Ink's palms, but the color and the pain was distant. His vision had tunneled in on Killer and his disgusting joyous yellows as he continued running his mouth. Magic lit in Ink's eyes as one of the weapons in the spar room shimmered into his hands. The whip, and a handful of kunai. 

He cracked the whip across Killer's face, and of course the idiot screamed. "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!" 

Ink tightened his grip on the whip. He wasn't entirely conscious of summoning them, but he went with it. "Pick a number," he growled, stalking towards Killer. 

"What?!" 

"Pick a _fucking number_ or I'll pick one _for you!"_

Killer busted up laughing, though it was cut short when Ink snapped the whip again. This time, Killer dodged it. His grin was still wide, but his body tensed, ready for a- 

Another slash happened across his face, and blood bloomed from the wound. 

Cross shifted his weight slightly, but forced himself to watch. Reaper was practically pacing, wanting Killer to _pay_ , but... 

Another crack, another slash. Killer just couldn't move fast enough, but Ink- 

_Stars, Ink was so **fucking** angry._

_And the whip was taking too long._

The next time he cracked the whip, it wound around Killer's midsection multiple times and forced him to the ground. Ink stalked closer. "How many knives do you have...?" he twirled the two kunai knives he summoned. "Better yet, how well can you _**h a n d l e**_ them?"

Something akin to fear lit in Killer's SOUL. He stared at Ink, the beginning of another laugh twitching on his grin, but uncertainty clear in his eyes. "You won't. You can't. You're the protector. You're not a-"

"Yeah," Ink knelt by Killer, a crazy grin spreading on his face, "I'm an _**a r t i s t**_ , Killer."


	49. Fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the chapter title is the last thing these boys have.

By the time Ink was done, Killer had passed out the pain. Ink's vision was colored with deep dark blue-greys and vivid purples. Reaper's rage had drained from him through the whole procedure. He remembered trying to **stop** Ink, and Nightmare ordering him into silence. 

_The King had enjoyed this..._

"Well, well. My little artist painted quite a pretty picture, didn't he?" Nightmare grinned down at Ink's blood splattered form. His eye flickered to Killer's unconscious body, then to Cross. "Take him to his room." 

"Not the-?" 

"No. He can patch himself up when he wakes up." 

There was a knock on the door, and Nightmare seemed to perk up. "Oh... I can't believe I forgot about my favorite destroyer. Though he might be out the title with _you_ , little artist." Louder, the king ordered, "Enter." 

Error opened the door, freezing when he saw... well, everything.

His eyes jumped around the room erratically, moving from Killer's prone, bloodied form to the matching marrow smeared across Ink and to his brother's tear-stained, bloody face just to cycle between the three again. Every time his eyes landed back on Ink; however, he seemed to waver; a look of-

Oh.

Ink stumbled back, what little anger left inside of him anger draining as rationality took its place. _He... he's afraid._ Error was afraid. Not of Nightmare. Not for Geno. 

He was afraid of _Ink._

"R...ru..." the artist choked, a hand shakily reaching out in the direction of his first. He faltered when he caught sight of the mess that was his phalanges; specifically, the blood coating his bone and the bruised, bloody knuckles. At one point, the whip and kunai didn't feel like enough, so he... he... _I beat him_ , he thought numbly, hands dropping to his side as his eyes fell on Killer. 

The sight had nausea churning in his stomach, made worse by the satisfaction he felt at the bleeding, broken form. _Oh gods, I..._ dark, watery liquid rushed up his throat, but he forced himself to swallow it back down.

"Error." Nightmare greeted, one hand raising in a lazy wave as the other absentmindedly fondled the bare bone of Geno's thigh. "You missed Ink's little show. Then again..." a tendril came up and prodded at Geno's scabbing cheek. Lacking gentleness, the touch tore through the scabbing and sent a few crimson drops down the glitch's face like incorrectly colored tears. Unnervingly, Geno didn't even blink. "...it seems as if your darling brother missed Inky's revenge as well, even though it was done in his honor. What a shame."

"...Revenge...?" Error whispered, making no move to come closer. Ink caught his eye and felt his heart sink at just how quickly Error tore his gaze away. "W-what-" swallowing, the destroyer forced his shaking, stuttering voice to still. When he spoke next, he came across as confident. He didn't feel that way. "What the fuck happened?"

"It's simple, really." Nightmare chuckled, waving Cross away as his second gathered Killer's limp form and left the room. "Killer had a bit of fun with poor Geno, so Ink took his revenge. Punished him in my stead, really. Although..." The smile Nightmare shot Ink was proud, like a parent having witnessed greatness from their child. "I must say, artist, I think your cruelty exceeded even my own there. That's..." he purred, _"impressive._ I'm tempted to give you yet another reward. Then again, your gift is a little...broken at the moment." he waved at Geno. "Would you even want this back for another night?"

 _He's not broken!!_ But the anger he wanted to feel at Nightmare's choice of words just... wasn't there. Ink forced himself to look Nightmare in the face and whisper, "Yes." 

_Delight_ , cruel and filthy, bloomed from Nightmare's corrupted SOUL. "I suppose I can let you have it for another night. I'll even send Cross for a new change of clothes for it! For now, go. You deserve a little afternoon off, and you'll train the god and the destroyer on their chosen weapons tomorrow. We'll still have dinner, and I expect you to be cleaned up. You can have your broken gift back after dinner." 

Ink's fists tightened slightly. "L-let us take care of him this afternoon..." his voice cracked slightly, "P-please..." 

Nightmare considered it. Very seriously, in fact. He glanced to where Cross had taken Killer, then slid his gaze back to Ink's. The artist _almost_ looked broken. "I do want to see Killer's injuries for myself..." His grin widened. "Interesting. Well, come up here, my artist, and pick up your prize." 

His legs shook slightly. Avoiding his husbands' gazes, he walked the miles to Nightmare's throne and- 

Was pulled in _close_ by one of his tendrils. His head manipulated until his wavering, tired sockets stared at Nightmare. The King grinned, "No targets on me? No anger for the moment?" 

Ink continued staring. _He... couldn't feel anything from him..._ "N-no.... no sir..." 

"Good boy. Make sure you keep it that way." He practically dumped Geno in Ink's hands as he stood, though Ink was quick to readjust his grip on his smallest husband. "Dinner is in a few hours. Error, take them to your room." 

Ink, though still shivering with a blank, distant stare, followed his first. Reaper trailed closely after Geno, fidgeting and wanting to check on his first and hold him- 

Error opened the door, once again freezing when he saw the multitude of broken shelves. 

And Cross standing there trying to fix them.

At their unexpected entrance, Cross sighed; his back turned to them as he held a shelf steady with magic and attempted to nail it back into place. "Horror, I already told you to get out of here twice. Don't make me say it a third time." he murmured, sounding tired at the thought of repeating the argument the groups of husbands missed. "Killer paid the price for fucking up. Don't like it? Too bad. Just... leave, okay? Before Error-"

"What the fuck are you doing in my room?" Error growled.

Startling, the black and white clad skeleton whirled around with an expression of surprise on his face. Caught off guard, he was unable to slam his emotionless mask back in place in time to hide the look, or the following embarrassed fluster when his broken attention sent the shelf crashing to the floor where the impact broke it in two. 

"...Error," he greeted, attempting to save face by playing it cool. "God, Ink-" he faltered when his eyes landed on the small form in Ink's arms. "...Oh..." he murmured, hastily concealed emotions threatening to break free from their flimsy confines. "I wasn't informed that he'd be allowed to stay with you, today. The supplies for patching up his face are in his...room."

Sensing the god's restlessness, Ink carefully handed Geno over to Reaper and silently made his way to the bathroom. 

With Ink's departure, Reaper focused on Geno and the cuts that marred his face. He trilled Geno’s name with distress and tried to get Geno to see him again. 

Error glanced at Ink leave, hesitating between questioning Cross more and making sure the empath was okay. Growling in frustration, Error turned on Cross again. "What are you doing here?" 

"Fixing the-" he sighed. He muttered something to himself and started to walk past them, but Error stepped in his way. 

Lowering his voice in the hopes that it wouldn't skip as bad, Error demanded, "What happened...?" 

Cross frowned. "You saw the aftermath, Error. It's over. Go check on Ink, I'll be back with some supplies." Cross stepped around Error. 

"You _know_ it isn't over," Error murmured. "They hold grudges." 

"And you know Ink can take care of himself." 

"When he _wants_ to." Error narrowed his eyes at Cross' back, watching his old friend's shoulders droop slightly. 

"Then _check_ on him. I'll be back." And Cross left. Before the door closed, Error could hear the echo of the bathroom door shutting.

Sighing shakily, Error dragged a hand over his face; suddenly exhausted. "R...Re...Reaps...?" he muttered, the comfort of being alone with his family removing the need to fight his stressed stutter. Reaper wouldn't scorn him for what he couldn't help; wouldn't call him weak or pathetic. "C-can y...you handle...h-handle G-Ge-"

"I got him, Ru." the god gently cut in, voice sad as he coddled the blank eyed skeleton on his lap. "Go check on our Inky. I...I'm going to try to get Gen to snap out of it while you're gone. Um, can you bring back a warm wash cloth? I... I want to clean his face."

Stepping over the mess on his floor, Error dug through the drawers for a spare set of clothing for Ink and answered Reaper's request with a nod before leaving the room. Just as the door shut behind him, the muffled sound of concerned crooning could be heard followed by worried calls of Geno's name and a few words he couldn't quite hear. _Please, please help him, Reaps..._

Wrinkling the clothes in his hands from his tight grip, Error made his way to the bathroom and quietly knocked on the door. "I...I-Inky c-can I...I...I..." _Just breathe through it._ "...c-can I come i-i-in...?"

He heard the sink running on his way over, but at his question it stopped. An eerie stillness drifted through the air before the door slowly opened enough to let Error in. Cautiously, Error took a step in. Two. He glanced around, seeing Ink hiding behind the door, wearing only his underwear, his filthy clothes wet and piled in the sink.

He'd used his clothes to try and scrub the blood... Once the destroyer was inside, Ink shut the door and turned the lock. 

Error took that moment to observe his husband and the multiple lacerations on his ribs and arms. He still had the dark purple bruise on his cheek stain, but the other injuries seemed fresh. For a moment, Error's rage flickered, but Ink whispered, "He didn't do it." 

"...W-wha-at....?" 

"My..." Ink turned slightly away from him, and Error saw more lacerations. As if a whip cracked against his back- "My _gift_. I wasn't regulating it.” _Never learned how to…_ “I was too close to him. These... these are going to scar on him." 

Error stared after him as he walked to the shower and turned it on. These injuries were only the worst of the blows the artist had bestowed upon the knife-wielder. But Ink... _stars, what the fuck...?_

The destroyer stepped slightly closer, eyes skipping across the injuries and- he narrowed his gaze. _Were... were those old wounds...? Underneath the fresh wounds and the tattoos...?!_

He felt his breath hitch in his chest, and his fingers start to itch. _Why... why did those scars look so similar to the new injuries...?!_

"I...I..." he tried, stepping forward and trying to work with the stutters, not against. It... it wasn't working. He couldn't-! "I...I...I..." He couldn't do it. Breathing heavily, he clenched his eyes shut and tried to force it. One word. Fuck, he just had to- he could-! _It was just one word, damnit! "I...I..."_

Tears of frustration spilled down his face. Pathetic. He was so fucking-

_"Pathetic," Nightmare snarled, "your inability to speak like a proper educated creature was amusing at first, but that isn't the case anymore, Error. **Speak,"** he demanded, "or else I'll give you a real reason for those tears."_

_He was **trying!** Fuck, he was- he-!_

_At his continued silence, Nightmare sighed. "Shame, and here I thought I made an excellent choice in choosing you as my second. Unfortunately, it seems as though I was wrong. **Was** I, Error? Tell me, did I make the wrong choice? Do I need to replace you with Killer, or Cross? Because all you're doing is disappointing me."_

_N-no! He... he wasn't- **Error** was his second! Nightmare **chose** him! Him! He..._

_He couldn't take that away._

_Getting the words out almost physically hurt. "I...I'm...t-the...the right...choice....!"_

_Nightmare's approving smile made the sensation of swallowed glass worth it._

Wet, trembling hands reached out and cupped Error's cheeks. "Ru..." Ink whispered, eyes sad and tired and pained but still somehow so _loving_. "Ru, baby, you need to work with it. Breathe and try not to fight them."

"I...I...." tears continued spilling down his face, cleansing the blood from Ink's hands. "I..." he couldn't. He... he fucking couldn't do it. Pathetic. Pathetic, pathetic, **p a t h e t i c.**

Ink shuddered at the torment from Error. It wanted so badly to feed his own, but he tried to ignore it. To shove it away for the moment. _What a mess our family has become..._ "Come on, Ru. Just... just breathe," he and Error shared a stuttering deep breath, "and try to speak."

"I-I...In...I-Ink...y...." Error gasped, fingers twitching rapidly and skull starting to itch uncomfortably where Ink's palms rested. _Not now. Please, stars, not now._ "I...I...Ink...y..."

A small smile lifted the artist's expression. "Ru..."

 _What happened to you?_ Error wanted to ask. _Why... why do you have so many scars? Why didn't you ever tell me? Do you even know about them? Why, how, what, when..._ he had so much to ask, but no method of doing so easily. 

Instead, he pushed his questions down for now until all but one remained. 

"C...c-can...c...an...I...I..." he swallowed and stepped closer, trying to stave off his phobia as long as possible. "Can I...h-h-help....?" Help clean his wounds, help with his back where he knew Ink would struggle, just...just help in general. "P...Please...?"

"...I...I thought you were afraid of me...?" Ink whispered.

Error rapidly shook his head. "F...f..." he whined and blinked away angry tears. Fingers twitching, he held up four of them before pointing at Ink. 

"Four...me...?" The artist murmured. Oh... _"For_ me, not _of_ me? I... why...?"

 _Because you impressed him. Because you tore through Killer ruthlessly. Because he was looking at you how he looks at all his favorite toys._ But he couldn't fucking say that. Not now.

Instead, Error shook his head and shakily pulled Ink towards the shower.

Ink looked at it, reaching a hand out to test the temperature. _Good enough_... He stepped out of his undies and paused. "Are you... your touch-" Ink looked to Error with worry. "Will you be okay to join me...?" 

Slowly, Error nodded. He took his own clothes off and stepped in with Ink. There was a little step-stool in the shower that Ink had moved the soaps to so he could remember to use them. He moved those under the stool so he could sit and let Error help him. 

Their time was spent in silence. Both had so many questions for the other, but Error couldn't get his damn voice to work properly, and Ink didn't want to force him. As Error washed Ink's back, he saw that, yeah, there were definitely **old** scars hidden under his dark tattoos. And now that he was looking, he noticed those scars **everywhere** there were tattoos on his first husband. 

Ink scrubbed his front clean. No traces of Killer's blood marred his bones, but almost desperately, Ink kept scrubbing. "N...no..." he whimpered, "no, no, no, no, I-I'm... I'm n-not...!" 

_Ink...?_ Error paused.

Shaking hands and fingers only grown worse, Error hesitated slightly before he leaned up on his knees and wrapped his arms around Ink from behind. It itched, but it didn't yet burn. He could handle it. 

"I...I..." sighing shakily, he reached around and tapped Ink's sternum, just above where his SOUL would be if summoned. Slowly, he dragged his finger across the bone, desperately trying not to think about the fine grooves he never once considered could hold scars _I...N...K...Y..._ he 'wrote', repeating the shape of the letters again and again.

After the fifth time, Ink took notice of what he was doing. "R-Ru..."

_I...D...I...O...T…_

That startled a wet laugh from Ink. "T-that's...that's m-mean, hon."

_M...Y...I...D...I...O...T..._

Ink chuckled again, distracted enough by the 'writing' that his frantic scrubbing slowed, even if it didn't completely stop. "...I feel dirty..." he whispered, staring down at his rubbed raw arms and torso and seeing filth all across his form. "Ru, I...I..." he didn't know what he wanted to say.

He wanted to believe it was the warm feel of blood splattered across him haunting him in that moment, but...

There was something else. He _knew_ there was, yet he didn't know what that something was.

 _H...E...L...P...?_ Error wrote, followed by a shaky murmur of, "I...I...In...ky..." and a hesitant hand motioning down his front.

He wanted to say yes. He was also afraid to. _Why? It's just, Ru. Why am I...?_

"I... I'm fine, hon," he wasn't, "let's just... let's wash off and head back. I'm worried about Geno."

Error knew he wasn't. Dammit, he _knew_ Ink wasn't. His fucking _idiot_... but Error also wasn't fine. He held Ink a moment longer. _I'm worried about **you**_... Gently, he took the cloth from Ink and they washed off. 

It was mostly quiet while they dried off. Even as they started putting on fresh clothes. Softly, Ink murmured, "I get... glimpses... sometimes..." Error paused and looked over to Ink, seeing the furrowed brows and the slight frown on his face. "Vivid glimpses... but... I can't... c-can't _remember_ later...! It's just... the _impression_ of those... those feelings? O-or maybe memories...?" His pulled his shirt on, and once his face was visible, his frown had deepened. "S-sometimes I'll see a color, and I'll _remember_ something, but it... it's _gone_ before I can truly....." 

"I....In....k.....?" 

The artist was silent for a long moment, staring at his hands. Flashes of the blood from today, and aged glimpses of dust and blood echoed over the now-image of his clean hands. As the flashes faded, and he was left with his clean hands, his expression went neutral, and he tried for a smile at Error. "I'm okay, Ru." 

Error knew better. The wavering lights? The half-smile? The shakiness in his hands as if he saw something he didn't want to see? His eyes drifted over the nearly healed cuts- he blinked. _Nearly healed?_

Stepping closer, Error ran his fingertips over one such cut with a confused expression. How...? Slowly, he traced the healing wound until it merged into another that he chose to follow instead.

Ink shivered under the light touch and caught Error's hand. The feathery, almost playful searching felt good in a way he wasn't sure he could handle at the moment, so he laced their fingers together and gently squeezed the trembling hand of his first. "I'm okay, Ru." he reassured yet again.

Frowning slightly, Error went to motion to the wounds but Ink dropped his hand and turned away to finish dressing before he could. The idiot...

 _...Memories, huh?_ he thought, turning his attention to that can of worms instead. Ink was remembering things, then? Bad things too, it seemed. Absentmindedly focusing on the back of Ink's skull, he frowned and picked at the clean shirt he wore. It didn't seem to fit the mood, but he... his chest felt warm, even in the face of the horror that seemed hidden behind Ink's admission. _He... he actually told me something._ Ink was still hiding how he was _actually_ doing, but still...

He shared with him. Without begging, or urging, or any struggle on Error's end. That was...

That was more than Error hand done in a while.

Gaze lowering to his trembling hands, Error closed his eyes and sighed; steeling himself. Ink was 'fine', huh? Well... "I...In...ky...?"

Tossing his dirtied clothing into the trash, Ink straightened and turned back to Error with a false smile. "Yeah, Ru?" he questioned, eyeing his expression carefully before reaching out and taking his hand again. With no reason to linger, the two soon left the bathroom once Error warmth a cloth with hot water for Reaper.

Error kept his gaze on the floor, but his focus was on the warmth of Ink's hand on his own. _He's 'fine', he's 'fine,' he's 'fine'…_ Working around five tongues that didn't want to form any words, Error slowly stuttered out a confession. Their steps slowed to give him the time, but never stopped until they ended up right before his door and the entire stuttered sentence was out:

"I...I...I'm a-afraid... t-to...to.... b-b-be ba...back..." 

It seemed obvious. It felt like it wasn't enough. Like the trade wasn't equal to what Ink offered so nervously, with great difficulty, he confessed what he was sure Ink felt but what he’d never voiced. "I...I'm...af...afraid...o-of...o...f...Ni... Night...m-mare..."


	50. #Hurt-Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the authors should've added that tag earlier, but it's here now? 🐰 🎃

_"I...I'm...af...afraid...o-of...o...f...Ni... Night...m-mare..."_

It was something he never admitted.

Doing so now was simultaneously freeing and utterly _terrifying._

Ink stood in front of the door with Error. He slightly tightened his grip on his husband's hand, unsure of how to... He looked to him, taking in how much smaller his husband appeared and he- _stars he hated how small Error looked..._

Error isn't one to be scared by anything! _He's_ the one that does the scaring! But Ink thought back to the little flashes throughout dinner. The phantom limbs on Error's legs. The disgusting colors around Nightmare's SOUL. He... he _thought_ he knew why Error was afraid of Nightmare. Stars, Ink was afraid too! But... but their fears were different. Error's was older. Like picking at a scab over and over, not letting it fully heal into the scar it's meant to be. 

Ink faced Error and rested his forehead on Error's . His voice was so soft, he wasn't sure he was even saying the words, "Why do you think I offered the year servitude...?" 

"I...id....i....ot....." 

He smiled. "True... but..." his smile faded, _"Protector."_ The word was so full of broken bitterness that Ink had to take a shuddery breath in order to continue. "I d-don't know what y-you've been through, b-but... but I didn't want...." he squeezed his sockets shut tightly. _"I won't l-let him hurt my family,_ yet I d-don't..." _have a choice..._

Error shut his eyes too, _I'm scared, I'm scared, I'm scared._

 _So am I... I'm not a protector here. I don't know what you've been through and if I try protecting you from it, it damns the others..._ But Ink's voice wouldn't work. He... he hoped Error understood... he loved them all so **so** much, but he felt like he was failing them... 

Little did Ink know that Error's fear was split. Of Nightmare and for his husbands and brother. Stars, he was afraid for their kids too...! He buried his face in Ink's chest, gripping him tightly. _Warm, safe, Ink, Ink, **Ink...!**_

The artist held Error close, reaching just enough to open the door and waddle in so they could have more privacy. 

Error released Ink enough to give Reaper the cloth, and when Ink glanced around the room, he could almost see what happened- 

He blinked then blinked again. No... no he _was_ seeing what happened. Though it was a mere after-image of the events that occurred however long ago, the residual fear and anger was so strong- 

Ink turned his attention to his husbands, shoulders tensed from the apparent new development in his powers.

When his eyes landed on Geno, he had to blink to see through the intensity of his own emotions, as well as the residual bright, bloody reds of anger and icy white of blinding fear lingering in the air. 

_It's not fair_ , he thought, symbols trailing from the skeleton cradled on Reaper's lap to the corner of the room where a faceless, white afterimage the same height and shape as the glitch trembled. _Why does white have to be fear?_

In order to follow Error as he moved in closer to the god and Geno, Ink had to step through a similar faceless figure, though this one was made up of the same angry red flowing through the air like smoke. Too tall to be Geno, but taller still than Killer. Cross then, he guessed, shuddering at just how strong the old image was. _Rage, bloodlust... why did those have to be red, of all colors?_

Red and white... together, the colors used to mean smiles made around swirled candy canes and peppermint flavored kisses. They meant a well loved scarf resting against soft white hoodies and a pretty red blush darkening ivory white bone. As a husband, red and white meant _Geno_ and were associated with the glitch like rainbows were with Ink and black was with Reaper.

It was unfair that the very colors used to represent his littlest husband also associated themselves with such foul emotions. 

It was doubly unfair that anger and fear were probably the _best_ emotions used to describe most of the glitch's lifelong experiences.

Ink hated it. He hated it a lot, really. 

But that hatred only served to darken the reds filling the room, so he forced himself to stomp down the violent emotions brewing within him. His attempts at swallowing his anger were made easier by the distracting yet concerning burst of blue from Error when Reaper finally managed to clear away some of the dried blood soiling Geno's cheeks, revealing the true extent of the damage.

With a breaking, wounding noise, the destroyer sank to his knees in front of his godly husband and brother and stared in horror at the lines on the glitch's face. "G...G-Ge..." he stuttered, a hand raising to brush over the blue lines of tears stained into his own face. _He looks like me_ , the thought made him sick. _Oh, gods, he..._

In actuality, the cuts didn't change _that_ much of Geno’s appearance, but it was the familiarity of the lines that made up the similarity. Error's markings were iconic. Infamous, in most cases.

And now Geno, his _brother_ , sported his own lines, lines that could easily be mistaken as thin, bloody _tears._

Ink forced himself to sear Geno's injuries into his mind. _Killer deserved it, Killer deserved it, Killer deserved-_

_But... did he? To the extent that-?_

The now-familiar three knocks sounded at the door and Cross entered with supplies in his hands. He paused upon seeing all four husbands in the same room again, noting how much further away Ink was from the other three, before making his way to the other three. "I have the-" 

Reaper bristled, sockets shooting towards Cross. Ink stepped forward, "Reaps... Reaps, he's just trying to help." 

Slowly, Reaper's sockets narrowed. Through grit teeth, he asked, "May I have the supplies?" though his gaze was warning Cross to keep his distance. 

Cross frowned, but handed the small package over. He glanced past Ink and to the shelves that still needed to be fixed.

Rifling through the supplies brought into the room, Error frowned as he handed Reaper a small pack of alcohol wipes. _This is it...?_ he thought, fumbling with a roll of bandages when the twitching of his fingers drastically increased. Fuck, he was getting worse. Trying to ignore it for now, he breathed through his panic the best he could and tried to keep the desperation out of his search of the supplies. _Where's the healing cream?_ All he could find was disinfectant sprays. 

"C...C...Cr...." choking on the words, he emptied a box of band-aids on the floor and tossed the cardboard at the white and black clad skeleton's head, gaining his attention. Hands shaking and fingers twitching irritably, he motioned to the box of supplies with a worried scowl.

Cross stared a little blankly, less out of an intentional concealment of his emotions and more out of confusion. "Error, I-" he paused as tri-colored fingers pointed to Geno's face, then the supplies.

 _Where's the healing cream?_ Error tried his best to get the question to register, but even Ink began looking confused at the gestures he made. Torn between wanting to scream and cry out of anger, the destroyer grabbed at the supplies they had. "C...c..." _where is it, where is it, where is it?!_ "Cr...eee-ee-ee...am...?"

 _Guilt_ , Ink distantly noted, the meaning of being able to make the observation going over his head as he focused on Error. "Cream?"

The guilt grew as Cross shuffled around in place. "...Nightmare called me in before I could get the supplies. No healing creams, Error, or anything else that'll seal up the wounds. They have to heal naturally."

 _They're going to fucking scar!_ Error desperately wanted to scream. Instead, he forced out a broken noise and finished sorting out anything that would be of use. Halfway through peeling the paper of a bandage open, he froze. _W...wait..._

Again, he tried to speak through gestures. This time, the motioning to his brother and the tugging of his clothing was easier to guess the meaning of.

Unfortunately, the answer was...

Cross didn't meet any of their gazes. "...Nightmare wasn't done with poking at Killer's wounds when he gave the orders about the supplies you were allowed."

Gently running a slowly staining wipe over one of the deeper lines, Reaper scowled. "What does that have to do with returning without a change of clothes for Geno?" _He hasn't had to walk around wearing his own blood since his chest healed. He...he doesn't deserve to do so again, damnit._

Still, the second wouldn't look at them. "Until the boss is done, Geno will have to make do with what he's wearing now. Nightmare..." his eyes slid to the crumpled dress on the floor, "...he hasn't gotten the chance to choose Geno's clothing for the evening yet. He'll send something down once he decides on what he'll wear."

"Is Killer going to be there...?"

Cross chuckled. "With what you did to him? I'll be surprised if Nightmare lets him heal enough to wake up _today."_ When his gaze flicked to inspect Ink, he took in a breath. "I thought for sure you'd have some injuries from him. He fought you until you beat him unconscious." 

_"Wow! Hey, come check this out! He's already healed!"_

_"What?! Impossible! ....no fucking way. That was- that was **shattered** just hours ago! How-?"_

_"Guess we'll have to find out won't we~?"_

Error shot Cross a dirty look as Ink clenched his fists and sat against a wall, still further from his husbands. Finally reaching his patience's end, Reaper snapped, "If you wanna be helpful, either fix the shelves or find some creams and clothes for Geno." He narrowed his sockets and dropped his gaze, adding, "Please," in an attempt to not rile Cross' ire. 

The second sighed and moved towards the shelves.

As magic flared and scattered nails began being put to use with a hammer, the aware trio of husbands turned to their own attention back the glitch curled up on Reaper's lap. 

"...Has he responded at all?" Ink questioned quietly, shuffling the clutter around him to the side under the pretense of tidying up. Really, he just needed something to do with his hands. "The alcohol should have stung a bit, right?" But Ink hadn't felt any pain. If the wipes or damp cloth Reaper was using to clear up the dried marrow was causing even the slightest bit of discomfort, then it didn't seem to be registering. That's kind of... scary. It was scary.

Error seemed to feel the same way, because the light tones of fear began interfering with his sadness; not intense enough to have brightened into the white of terror, but uncomfortably close with it's icy blue hue. Finishing with the last paper backing of a gauze-type bandage, the destroyer slid as close as he dared to the god and inspected his brother's face. 

No flakes of dried marrow and only the slightest of bleeding from the way Reaper's attempts at cleaning the cuts messed with the fresh scabbing of the lines. The band-aids could go on now. 

Protectiveness burning in his chest, Error tried to work with his trembling hands the best he could and carefully smoothed one of the large pieces of adhesive bandages onto his brother's cheek. It was too thin, though. Too thin, too easy to feel the bone through...

Fingers burning, Error tore his hands away before he could finish getting the bandage into place. Pathetic, he scowled, eyes turned away from Reaper's understanding stare. _Fucking **pathetic** , you fucking weakling._ He could tear through worlds on a bad day as easily as shredding a sheet of paper into pieces, but he couldn't stand touch long enough to put a band-aid on his own damn brother's cheek. 

Smiling sadly at Error's turned away skull, Reaper finished smoothing the piece into place before adding another matching square to the other wounded cheek his first was sporting. "There you go, baby." he cooed, voice quiet as he lightly pressed a kiss to Geno's forehead. "Clean and all fixed up. Does... does it feel a little better, honey?"

Geno blinked, but his void gaze didn't show any recognition. A clear 'no' to Ink's earlier question.

Uncaring that a stranger was there to hear, Reaper trilled in distressed and nuzzled the top of Geno's skull. "Geno," he crooned, "please, please snap out of it. Everyone is really worried about, baby. Your brother Ru, your Inky..." again, he trilled, "...your Reapsy-poo is here too, Gen."

One of his fingers twitched, and Reaper cooed encouragement. "Yeah! It's your Reapsy here...!" 

Done pushing things around, but still unsure about approaching them, Ink murmured, "Ge...? Honey, c'mon..." 

"G....g....gl...." Error shut his eyes and tapped the floor _G-l-i-t-c-h-f-a-c-e._

With each of their attempts, Geno _seemed_ to be coming back. Ink felt a flicker of Geno's emotions. Some anxiety. Fear, of course. A hint of recognition. It took several more tries from each of them for Geno's eye light to flicker back into view and glance between them. 

Reaper sighed heavily with relief and held his first husband close. "Geno..." his coo was broken up with choked up tears he was finally able to release.

Breathing deeply with large, gasping inhales as if having submerged from an eternity underwater, Geno shook and desperately clutched at Reaper with trembling hands. _W-where...where was-_ panicked, he glanced around. No soft, golden light or walls, no scent of dust... Again, he searched around the room.

No human.

Warm droplets of water splattered on his skull. Jumping slightly in surprise, he turned his eye light to the source and blinked up at Reaper's tearful expression; only just now _really_ seeing him as the memories haunted him lost their grip on his mind. "R-Reapsy..." he whispered, a single hand uncurling from the fabric of the god's clothing to cup Reaper's face.

Back pressed to the wall, Ink let the relief in the room wash over him. Error's, Reaper's... he hid his surprise behind a smile.

_Cross', too...?_

Glancing at the guard in question, Ink found him diligently trying to fix the shelves still, and his expressionless face gave nothing away. Even that relief Ink felt from him was starting to be packed behind a wall again. 

_Well, nice to know he had emotions, I guess..._

Reaper leaned into Geno's hand, tears flowing harder. He nuzzled his first's palm and kissed it softly. "G-Gen...." 

Error leaned against the side of his bed, sighing. His haphephobia was still bad, and he wasn't sure if he could utter any words quite yet, but... stars, this was something at least... he glanced over to Ink again, frowning slightly that his artist was so far away. 

Ink seemed to catch his gaze and held it for a moment. Relief was clear in his eyes, but it didn't seem like Ink was totally in-the-moment like the rest of them were. _Damned fool... where are you this time...?_

A frail smile settled on Geno's face at the kiss pressed into his palm. It fell far too quickly when the smile resulted into little sparks of pain shooting all across his cheeks. Wincing, he dropped his hand to his face and frowned at the feel of something on his-

_Trapped between the wall and the body forcing his own still, Geno screamed as he struggled in vain to pull away from the knife carving a path of red down his face. The louder he screamed, the harder he fought, the deeper the blade went and the more his attacker laughed._

Breathing quickening, Geno pressed both hands to his face and felt around the large band-aids covering his wounds. H-how many-?!

Gentle hands caught his own and carefully pulled them away from his covered face. "It's okay, honey." Reaper whispered with a breaking voice. "You... y-you're okay now, Geno. We're here."

"R-Reaps," he hiccupped, eye burning when the desire to cry, but not tears left to sob with. Something tickled his wrist. When he looked down, the glitch found blue strands tangled around his carpals and followed their path to his brother. "Er...E-Error...* Slowly, he shifted to search out Ink. "Inky..."

"We're here for you, hon." Reaper promised.

Shaking, he kept looking between the three, as if losing sight of any one of them for more than a few seconds would cause them to disappear. When sounds of impact caught his attention, he briefly glanced at-

"C-cross...?" he stuttered, fear building within him. _N-no, I...I don't want to go back. Not n-now!_

Cross glanced at his name and paused slightly, seeing the fear plain on Geno's face. 

Ink snapped out of whatever funk he was in. He instantly rose to his feet and approached, effectively blocking Geno's view of Cross. "No, no Ge, he's just here to fix the shelves he broke." 

"Sh-shelves...?" 

"He... prevented _more_ from happening to you, Ge." 

"...." Geno shivered, eye glancing between his husbands and brother again. ".....the attack-" 

"Punished," Ink said flatly. Too quickly, in Error's opinion, but Geno didn't _seem_ to notice. 

He looked down again, at Reaper's face in his hand and at the blue strings in the other hand. Softly, Reaper murmured, "You're allowed to stay with us another night, but you still have to come to the dinner with us..." 

Ink's shoulders tightened slightly, and Cross turned his gaze back to the shelves. _Almost done._

Dinner, huh? Geno though back to yesterday's meal and felt any sense of hunger within him shrivel up when nausea churning and the back of his throat began burning at just the idea of sitting down for a meal with- 

"He may not be there, hon." Ink reassured softly, wishing nothing more than to run a brush through the white around Geno so that he could paint the blankness of fear away. Careful to avoid brushing up against Error, he sat down and reached out to curl his fingers around the wrist left free of blue threads. "If he is, we'll keep him from talking to you, or even looking your way."

"H-how...?" They... they didn't have any power here. 

Fitting the last shelf into place, Cross kept his focus on the last few nails he needed to add so that he couldn't see whatever cold expressions would be thrown his way. _I shouldn't offer this_ , but he was already opening his mouth and murmuring, "I can make him behave for the night, if he's there."

Silence fell heavy among the five of them, though it was Reaper's hesitant and somewhat dark voice that broke it, "How?"

Hammering the last nail in, Cross let arm he was using to wield the hammer fall to his side and turned to face the group. A humor he knew was inappropriate for what took place had him forcing down a chuckle when he saw Geno's bandaged cover face. It really, truly wasn't funny, but... _He looks like Pikachu, in a way._

Glad for his expressionless mask that kept his poor humor hidden, Cross addressed the god's question. "As second, I have a certain level of influence over the others. If I give a command, they _do_ have to follow it, whether or not they wish to. Unless Nightmare himself overrides me, I can get Killer to settle down and behave. He'll be prickly after today's beat-down, but more careful, too." 

Ink spoke up before Geno could voice his confusion about the mentioned 'beat-down'. "He didn't seem to listen to you all that well our first dinner here."

Allowing his expression to darken, Cross growled, "He _will_ listen this time around if he knows what's good for-" A buzzing from his pocket interrupted his sentence. Letting his phone ring, he stiffened slightly when he realized the particular pattern of the vibrations. _Nightmare._

Ignoring the looks tossed his way, he dug his cell out and glanced over the orders sent to him. "...You don't have to trust me, or even believe me, but Killer will behave if I tell him to." pocketing his phone, he turned to the door.

"W...wh...w-where...?" Error murmured. _Where are you going?_

Cross didn't turn back to face them. "...Geno's clothing is ready to be delivered here. I'll drop them off soon."

Soon, he left, and the door clicked closed quietly. With just the four of them there, they seemed to relax more. Geno turned his eye to Reaper, "Beat...?" 

Flashes of Killer's blood on Ink's body appeared before Ink's eyes and he let go of Geno's hand. He forced a smile to him, "Hey, don't worry about it okay?" 

Geno frowned at Ink, unconvinced, but he let it go in order to enjoy the moment with his family. He looked to Error, "Ru, your...?" 

"F....fi....I'm f...fine...." 

Reaper grumbled something, likely relating to hating the word "fine". He murmured to Geno, "Don't pick at your face, okay?" 

The smallest sighed and nodded slightly. 

"When is the dinner again...?" Ink glanced around for the clock. 

"C....couple mo....ore hours...." 

Shoulders sagging, Ink murmured, "Afternoon snack from the kitchenette?" already standing and walking to the door. "I'll make us something real quick!" he smiled brightly and left. 

Watching him go, Geno whispered, "D...did something....? Is Ink okay....?"

Reaper and Error shared a look. With his mission to tidy Nightmare's chambers, Error missed all that went down between Ink and Killer, so the explanation fell to Reaper. Thankfully, this meant the destroyer would get more time to calm himself and work on regaining his usual verbal ability. 

"Gen..." Reaper began, halting there as he tried to think of just what to say. _Ink deserves to be the one to tell him._ And if he didn't do so by the time Geno's removal from their company neared, then he and Error would take matters into their own hands. For now, he tried to shake the memory of Ink's enraged expression from his head and sighed, "Ink was upset when he saw you, hon. I was too. You... baby, you brought in wounded and _crying._ We- stars, seeing you like that was horrifying, Gen. Ink... Ink didn't let Killer get away for putting you in that state. From what I understand, Nightmare," he spat the name, "didn't plan on letting him go unpunished either."

Geno frowned slightly, trying to recall something, _anything_ , but failing to do so. "I-Ink...?"

Reaper's voice softened. "He took the offer to punish him, Geno. Honestly, if it were given to me..." Reaper's touch meant he couldn't extend his anger, but he would have made sure Killer paid with his life for what he did to Geno.

Error and the glitch both felt a chill go down their spines, perfectly aware of just what was promised by the words the god didn't say. "Is...is he okay, though? I-Ink, I mean."

The destroyer shook his head, but he couldn't explain why just yet. Not when he wasn't sure of the reasons beyond the flashes Ink claimed to be seeing and the artist's horror over his actions. "H...h-he isn't...b-but..." his eyes trailed to the door Ink left through. "W-we h...have a-at least t-the rest...o...of today t...t-to be there...f-for him..."

Geno curled himself into Reaper's embrace, frowning with worry for them all, especially when he couldn't remember anything. Nearly ten minutes passed when Ink came back with a plate of snacks and an arm full of waters and instant tea blends. "Here we go!" he smiled and set the plate down between the four of them. He passed them each the waters and a tea packet if they wanted it, before he mixed his own.

His cheerful voice was almost convincing. Hell, his whole body posture was almost convincing. Error narrowed his eyes at Ink, gaze flicking to the exposed bone just below the back of Ink's neck- yep, The scars were still subtle, but there. The ugly splotch surrounding his ink stain was still there. His hands- 

_Oh Inky_... Error frowned. He was scrubbing at them again, and was trying to hid them with the longer sleeves of his clean shirt. 

"Thanks babe," Reaper smiled slightly to Ink. "These look good." 

"Well, we'll see, won't we?" he smiled back. He took a bite, slowly chewing it. "Hmmph.... it's not _horrible_ but..." shrugging, Ink finished his sandwich quickly and chugged the tea. 

Error glanced to Reaper again, a slight frown on his face.

The god shot him a slightly helpless expression. What do we do...? Ink's stubbornness was an entirely different brand than Error's or even Geno's. Trying to chip away at his walls usually just strengthened them, from what Reaper had seen in the past. Anything short of an ambush wouldn't work and that method would be far from helpful in such a high stress environment. 

_Maybe if Error tries crying...?_ No. No, that was a terrible idea. So many factors had changed from when they tried that to get Ink to admit his concerns about his lack of SOUL.

Mulling over their options, Reaper frowned slightly and glanced at Geno, before looking at Ink's hands. No sandwich or tea left to keep them busy, so they were back to rubbing against one another. 

Might as well give them something else to busy themselves with.

"Inky?"

The artist glanced up with his smile in place. "Hm-"

Acting for his desire to keep Geno all to himself prevented him from going forward with his plan, Reaper leaned forward and lifted Geno up and off his lap and into Ink's. _Sorry, Inky, but you can't run away when your lap is filled._ And Ink looked uncomfortably close to dashing out the room again when he finished his small meal.

He tensed slightly as Geno's weight, and emotions, settled through him. Especially that concern and the annoying purple that sparked whenever Geno moved his face. _But he was here... he was okay…_ Ink wrapped his arms around Geno, curling around the smaller skeleton, but holding him loosely enough that he could still reach for some food or leave if he wanted. 

Error smirked slightly at Reaper. _Good job._

The god studied his two husbands, glancing back to Error. _Who should ask...? **How** should we ask??_

Geno sipped the water, not feeling completely up for eating yet. He cuddled into Ink's embrace. From his position, he couldn't see Ink's face, so he watched as Reaper and Error seemed to be mentally debating something between the two. 

Until finally, Ink sighed, "Why don't you two just get whatever it is off your chest already? You're starting to make me feel.... claustrophobic...."

"I...Ink..." Error tried. Still stuttering, but at least the words were coming easier. "W-what...what's going o-on with you? You... you aren't f-fine..."

Reaper nodded in agreement. "Babe, I- you know we understand, right? What... what you did when it came to Killer. I get it. Error gets it too. We know you're not the kind to do that though, so it makes sense if you're upset about what you did..."

"...but y-you aren't letting u-us help." Error murmured, frowning. "I...I d-don't know i-if we...c-can help, but y-you aren't letting us e-even try. Don't...d-don't lie to us, e-either, because w-we know you're not fine." His voice lowered, something nervous and raw mixing with his words. "...Inky, a-all we have here is e-each other. Don't...d-don't push us a-away."

Ink's eye lights flashed erratically for several moments before he shut his sockets and rested his head on Geno's shoulders. "Oh..." He tilted his head and glanced away. Geno intertwined his fingers with the artist's and gently caressed them in an almost massage with his thumbs. 

"P-please..." 

Ink's shoulders drooped slightly more. "....I know you understand... but-" his gaze searched the floor, as if physically looking for a good way to explain it. "There's... flashes... glimpses... impressions... **feelings** , that I...." his eye lights were shaking. "They're always brief. Seconds at a time that leave unease or... or like deja vu...? The dust and blood on my-" a question mark flicked in one of his sockets, "Th-the d-dust...? N-no, that... that can't be- the _whip-"_ again, he stopped himself, and his body started to shake. "I... I don't...! W-with the sparring and the weapons- R-Ru, I don't-"

One glance at Error's torn expression was all it took to get Geno squirming until he was facing Ink on his lip. His brother wasn't yet able to throw his arms around Ink like he knew Error wanted, so the glitch did so in place; arms sliding up and around Ink's neck carefully and hugging him tightly as he wrapped his legs around the skeleton's waist. _Ink..._

Drifting over, Reaper circled the pair before settling down at Ink's side and carefully leaning into the artist to share his warmth. Hopefully, this wasn't too much. If it was, he would back off, but, stars, did Ink look like he needed the comfort.

As his husband and brother set to physically comforting his first, Error seated himself directly across from Ink and tried to catch his eye. "I...I want t-to ask a q-question, but... b-but if you can't h-handle it now, I c-can wait." _We want to help you, Ink. We don't want to hurt you more._

Face pressed lightly into Ink's chest to avoid stinging his cheeks, Geno murmured, "We can talk about something else, if you want. Just... only if you need us to talk about something else, though."

Reaper nodded against his shoulders. "Please don't avoid us, hon. Not unless if you need a break. We trust you, so trust us to share your worries whenever sharing them won't hurt you. I...I don't know what to do about these flashes, but I'm glad we at least _know."_

Ink focused his gaze on Error as he sunk into the soft pinks of the two touching him. It was harder, with their concern almost overtaking it, but soon Ink found himself re-grounded in the present with them. So much that he could ignore the smoky impressions of his terrified husband and the pissed second that still seemed to echo in the room. _I want to reach out... I want to-_

_They can't stop this. **I** can't stop this... I... I don't even know the triggers..! Or.... or maybe I just don't remember...?_

"What's.... what's the question, R-Ru...?" 

_I want to run, I... I want to- I **need** to-_

But he forced himself to stay still. Let himself sink just a little further into the pinks to keep him here, though Geno noticed he was still shaking.

Error watched him for a long moment in silence. _...He's already pushing himself._ If anything, they were all lucky that Ink shared what he did. If Ink was struggling, then Error didn't want to push him further. He wouldn't.

Leaning back against the bed, he toyed with the slackened strings still connected to his brother's wrist and tilted his head. He needed something else to replace his concerned question with; something to fill the spaces of the words he no longer wanted to speak. Not now, at least.

Absentmindedly coaxing a few strings to branch off and curl around Ink's head like an incomplete, stringy crown, the destroyer hummed quietly before asking. "When..." They needed something nice to focus on. They... they needed a bit of hope. _Don't bring up Dream, or the kids._ Oh, but... but kids, in general...? That could...

Hoping this didn't end up in disaster, Error questioned, "...W-when all this i-is over with...would y-you rather try for a b-boy, or a g-girl...?" _PJ could use another sibling._

 _That's not your question_ … and Ink almost said that out loud. But... his gaze went watery with the thought of his kids. Maybe a younger one running around. PJ- 

_"Look, baby abomination," Error started, reaching out and playfully prodding PJ on the cheek with a finger. The sight of soft, pliable bone squishing made him crack a grin. "Seeing you and your brother is more than enough to make mom happy, okay? You don't need to push yourself so hard when a smile and one little paint creature is all it takes to make mama smile. You're feeling sleepy, right?"_

_Puffing his cheeks out in a pout, PJ reluctantly nodded. "Yeah..."_

_"How are you going to enjoy mama's smile if overworking yourself makes you sleepy?" Error asked, brow raised. When his son huffed and whined, he sighed, "You're doing really good with your magic, brat." he praised, "Just... tone it down, okay? Leave yourself enough energy to spend time with your mother...."_

The memories of his son stuttered slightly as the first tear fell, but... A smile lightened Ink's stressed expression, to the point that his eye lights settled on a pastel heart and star combo. "...whatever you're able to give me," he murmured back. Exhaling shakily, he wiped his tears and cuddled into Geno's warmth. "..." Ink looked to Error. "...what was your real question, Ru...?" he asked, with more certainty in his voice. _I don't **not** want to know..._

Careful of his cheeks, Geno nuzzled into Ink's sternum and tried to comfort him the best he could in preparation for whatever his brother was about to throw at the artist. He knew Error. Not always as hell as Ink, but better in certain ways that he wasn't sure how to explain. If Error was hesitating over this, then that meant there was a reason.

Sliding his hand into one of Ink's, Reaper gave a soft squeeze before turning his gaze to Error to peer at him curiously. 

With blank eyes and flashing symbols aimed at him, the destroyer shifted uncomfortably. Nervously, if he were honest. For all he knew, Ink wouldn't react poorly at all, but he _didn't_ know if that would be the case. 

He didn't like not knowing that. 

Steading himself a deep breath, he silently shot off a plea to the stars for his worries to be unfounded before looking at Ink and murmuring, "...W-where did y-you get a-all those scars, I-Inky?" Once he had the main question out between them; however, he found that the stuttering words simply wouldn't stop afterwards. "I...I n-never noticed t-them," fuck, how had he never noticed them? "but t-they... Inky, e-every tattoo i-is a...a m-mark. A s-scar. How... h-how did- they're-!"

Fuck, some looked so _bad_. Not quite deep, but telling of wounds that _had_ been, once. Error wasn't an expert on scarring, yet the glimpse he got...

"W-who...who h-hurt you, I-Inky....?" Because there _was_ a who involved; a someone. Scars like that? They were intentional.

Ink squeezed Reaper's hand and held Geno closer, gaze shifting slightly. _Who...? Where....??_ He blinked. "I... Ru.... I'm-" 

_"We're going to try something new. You think separating your bones or forming your ecto is going to stop us from playing with you-?"_

Ink's eye lights had bleached, his mouth slightly open from interrupting himself, though he shut his mouth and sunk into his husbands' embraces. "The scars...? They're... just tattoos..." but his voice was distant, as if he'd spent time memorizing those words to convince others when he didn't have a SOUL. 

Reaper gently nudged him, "Inky...?"

Error swallowed down his regret and gently pushed the issue, because they're weren't damnit. The deep, dark black of the ink used and the striking design of the tattoos were more than enough to conceal the lines carved into bone, but Error _knew_ what he saw. 

"Ink," he whispered, "they're _scars_. S-some... Inky, a _lot_ of them looked bad, too. Ink-"

"I don't want to talk about this." Ink rasped, eyes unseeing as images weakly flickered through his minds. Brief, fuzzy flashes too quick to truly see and bits of voices he couldn't place but _feared_. He... he couldn't- he didn't-! "I...I d-don't...." Oh gods, _there were hands on him. No, claws. N-no, knives and...a-and..._

He blinked, and saw nothing but the blinding white of his own terror.

"P-Please," he whispered, unaware of the tears dripping down to wet Geno's skull. "I...I d-don't...I-"

_"Tell us what we want to know and **maybe** we'll stop having fun with you."_

"I c-can't tell yo-!" That... that wasn't right. "I...R-ru, I... I don't know."

_"Tsk, tsk. That's another cut to mark another lie~"_

"I don't w-want to t-talk about t-this." He gasped, desperately telling them the truth. "P-Please, please, I- don't make me-"

A trembling body pressed into his free side, little sparks of itching pain searing into shoulder and side but easily ignored as a rush of determination drowned it. "I'm s-sorry," Error whispered, "Ink, I'm s-sorry. W-we...we d-don't need to t-talk about it. N-not...not r-right now..."

"R-remember... remember...? Remember...? I c-can't..." his voice dropped to a desperate whisper, _"I'm trying...!"_

_"You're trying? Are you though? You haven't given us a single answer. How long have you been our guest here? Heh, you're more like a permanent figurine-"_

Ink shrunk slightly more, looking to Error and desperately trying to see him. To see his first husband. He blinked several more times, trying to focus on Error's determination and Geno's and Reaper's concerns and soon, mercifully, the memories faded. 

The sensations and the feelings stayed. 

"..." Ink's brows furrowed slightly. "I... I _want_ to remember... I think....? But it's..."

Teeth the same shade as joy pressed to his Ink stained cheek. "D-don't... d-d-don't-" Inwardly, Error cursed himself for being so thrown by Ink's fit of fear that his own progress regressed. Dropping his head onto Ink's shoulder and violently forcing the discomfort down as far as he could manage, he sighed and took up Ink's free hand. "D...d..."

"Don't push yourself," Geno murmured into Ink's chest, the words both what Error wanted to say to the artist and meant for Error himself as well. 

Reaper nodded in agreement, eyes soft but worried as he looked over his little trio of loves. "Maybe... maybe we should just try to relax? For now, at least. We still have a few hours until dinner, but... it's been a long day. A few of us could use naps."

Refusing to remove his face from the comforting warmth of his tallest husband's chest, Geno made a wordless noise of agreement, though a concern of his soon reared it's head. "...Does anyone know if I'm able to take a bath?" Able he said, but he meant _allowed._

Ink's eyes glanced between his husbands, and he slowly let himself relax into their colors. He dropped a kiss to Geno's head. _Stars, he wished he didn't care what Nightmare allowed..._

Jerkily, Error nodded. _Appearances matter._

Reaper rested his head against Ink's, looking to Geno. "Want me to come with you...?" Geno nodded slightly, peeling his face from Ink's chest to look up at him.

Reaper tried not to wince at the red tinting the beige bandages over Geno's face. _He wasn't careful enough_ , though Reaper knew the glitch did his best to be. 

The cuts were simply placed somewhere that experienced too much movement with the way Geno's face shifted with his facial expressions. Even the slight smile his first wore now was pulling at the scabbing beneath the bandages and drawing up little splotches of red. 

_I don't want to be alone,_ Geno thought, leaning up a bit to press his teeth to Ink's chin before taking the hand offered to him by Reaper and allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. "Is there a shirt or anything I can borrow...?" 

With Ink's lap free, Error almost eagerly tugged the thickest blanket offered to them off of the bed and bundled himself in it tightly. He spared a moment to nod to his brother and the god once they gathered some temporary clothing and left, but was quick to climb onto Ink's lap where he decided he was going to stay until the itching grew too strong for even the small barrier between them to contain.

 _Accept my comfort, bitch._ He wanted to say, just to try for an amused smile for Ink. 

He settled for dropping his forehead onto his shoulder.

Still, Ink managed the smallest of smiles, and held Error close. "...let me know if you need space for a bit...?" 

Error grumbled, cuddling further into Ink's arms. They stayed like that for the moment, until Ink picked Error up and walked them to the bed. He set his husband down, just to crawl in next to him and curl around him. They watched the door, but otherwise didn't move. 

Softly, Ink started to hum. He held enough talent to carry a tune, but not so much to put words to it. But it was still a familiar, wonderful little bit that... that Error _recognized._

_Ink sang this to PJ when he was a sobbing newborn._

Eyes stinging, the destroyer shut his sockets, but it didn't allow him much escape. As the song washed over him, images began creeping up to fill his mind.

_Leaning against Ink with a tired expression, Error gently rocked Paperjam in his arms in an exhausted attempt to get the little guy to calm down enough to sleep. "C'mon, PJ." he murmured, trying not to wake Ink who was somehow snoring through the noise._

_The artist had promised to watch their son during the night, but an urgent phone call left him with little choice but to take a brief absence in order to help resolve whatever issue it was that reared his head. Thankfully, it hadn't involved Nightmare like Error dreaded, but whatever took place left the protector in dire need for some rest so Error, just a few days recovered from PJ's birth, was the one now tasked with getting their son back to sleep._

_Stars, he was so tired though..._

_Sockets lidding sleepily, he murmured what calming words he could think of to his son and considered checking to see if PJ was hungry. The last eight attempts to feed him proved he wasn't, but maybe that changed? Or the tiny thing was just stubborn? Or...or..._

_A sudden lack of weight in his arms made his eyes snap open in horror. Before he could shoot up, familiar eyelights met his panicked gaze and Ink smiled; arms wrapped around their son. When had he...?_

_"It's okay, Fringe," Ink whispered, now seated at the edge of the bed with pillows replacing him behind Error's back. "I got him, hon. Sorry for not waking up sooner."_

_An insult was on the tip of his tongue, but PJ's crying raised in pitch; dragging out two pained winces from them both. Before he could react, Ink turned his attention back to the newborn and gently rocked him, teeth set in a smile as he sang a wordless tune Error didn't yet know, but would soon come to learn by heart._

Turning so that his face was pressed into Ink's neck, Error let the song soothe away his tears as they always would PJ's.


	51. A Question to Axe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which inspiration isn't the only thing people get struck with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Direct continuation from the last chapter, but switching views between AfterDeath and ErrInk!)

Evidence of Ink's own bathing lingered in the bathroom when they arrive. The shower walls still dripped with tear-like droplets of water easily seen with the way the curtain was pushed aside while the almost too white floors gleamed in the light from the water slicking up the tiles.

Careful not to slide on the damp floor, Geno left Reaper to shut and lock the door while he set the change of clothes on the sink before turning to the tub and reaching in so he can plug up the drain. A shower would be quicker, but...

_A bucket of soapy water is dropped in front of him as well as two simple rags. "You were so bold as to request a wash, so here you are, little Genocide." Nightmare purrs, stepping over the puddle formed by he messy handling of the bucket._

_When he dips a finger into the water, Geno finds that it's ice cold. The dark room mocking the void of the save screen he's being kept in is already chilly. If he washes with this..._

_"Go on," Nightmare urges, "or are you taking so long before you desire my help?"_

_The thought of the asshole's hands going anywhere near him makes him shudder. Quickly, he takes a rag in hand, but stops still with his other hovering over the hem of the long shirt he wears. Hesitantly, he glances back._

_Nightmare meets his gaze with a raised brow; smirking. "Go on," he says again, this time a purr, "wash." But if you do, know that I'll be watching._

_The heated look of sick promise directed his way makes him feel far filthier than icy water and a rag alone can help._

_Geno drops the rags on the floor and refuses to bathe._

Before he knew it, the tub was filled with steaming water and enough bubbles that they poured out and dripped to the floor. Hand trembling slightly, Geno added _more._

He hasn't cleaned himself in what could very well have been weeks. He... he didn't know when he'd get the chance to do so like _this_ again.

Geno was going to milk this bath for all it was worth.

———

Ink kept humming, until it faded into silence. Hesitantly, Ink smoothed his hand over Error's skull. "I did most most of my tattoos..." Ink breathed out, as if it were a secret. "I did the most of them... but where I couldn't reach, I had help.... I... _Dream_ helped... and sometimes we have to re-ink them..."

———

Eagerly, Geno took the clothes off. The robe, the nightgown, the panties, thankful that, if even for the moment, Nightmare's crest wasn't on him. He tested the tub's temperature again before gingerly stepping in.

Reaper, however, was left staring at the clothes. 

Seeing the damned crest on his first husband's _underwear_. For a moment, he considered that he should be _thankful_ that Geno had clothes, let alone underwear, but... he balled his fists together and looked to Geno. "Want some company in the tub, Gen...?"

———

_Dream..._ like, but... but he could see it. Enough so that it was easy to get flustered over the implications thrown at them because what he didn't feel now could so easily change later. Dream was attractive, and funny, and surprisingly snappy in the mornings.

Error could fall for him. He... 

Yeah, that's what the regret was over: He was regretful that _he didn't get that chance._

...That he may _never-_ Breathing in sharply, he curled his fingers tight in the blanket around him. "D...does...d-does your o-offer still...still s-stand...?" he asked. To clarify, he pressed his teeth to Ink's next in what small spot remained untouched by Ink.

———

Unsure if Reaper was trying for a joke or being sincere, Geno tilted his head and watched the god's expression closely. Something was off in Reaper's expression, but he put his focus on the question for now.

 _When's the last time we took a bath together...?_ The used to do it often enough, but then Goth was born and their lives got a little hectic with a child to worry about and care for. They still found the time to relax together, but Geno...

He missed it. The intimacy of lounging together in a tub where nudity didn't mean sex.

Hopeful it was an honest question, Geno nodded and scooted forward in the tub to make room behind himself.

Reaper shed his own clothes, taking just enough care to not rip them though he wanted to. He stepped in behind Geno, easing himself in around his smaller husband.

———

It took a moment for his question to sink in. To recall the offer Ink had made so long ago. A genuine smile graced the artist's face, even as he took in Error's regret. He pulled back slightly to peer at Error. "Of course that offer stands, hon. For _you."_ His lights changed to something softer. Something that seemed to reflect that pink he kept talking about.

Something eased within Error's chest. His worry was still there, but lighter. In all honesty, he was afraid that the artist would have said no and he would be left scrambling to hide his disappointment from the very person who caused it. "Y-yeah...?"

Ink pressed their foreheads together, careful to watch the shorter skeleton's reactions to the contact. "Yeah, Ru. I'll wear your mark proudly, wherever you choose for it to be."

A small smile settled on the destroyer's face. "Even if I make it on your forehead?"

"Honestly, I'll be kind of impressed if you manage to make a hickey on my forehead without ruining the mood."

———

Shivering at the feel of bone against bone, Geno sighed happily and leaned back until his weight was comfortably settled against Reaper. "This is nice..." he whispered, sinking a little lower just to feel the rush of soothing heat over his form.

Sinking down with him, the god ignored the sound of water spilling over the side of the tub in favor of filling the slightly echoing room with a small trill. "It is," he agreed, a single arm settling around Geno's waist, "we haven't done this in a while, huh?" He asked, unknowing of the way he was speaking Geno's previous thoughts.

The glitch smiled, though he couldn't see. "Last time we tried, Goth-" his breath hitched, words skipping straight into a choked silence. _Oh, stars, Goth..._

———

That earned a chuckle from the destroyer. "Guess I'll have to try, huh?"

Ink grinned, "Like I said, wherever you choose for it to be..." he cringed, feigning worry, which had the destroyer shaking a little harder from his chuckle. 

Smile wider than before, Error tipped his head back to better examine Ink with. "...I...I love y-you, Inky..." he whispered, glad for the way his sentence barely shook.

Ink seemed to relax further around Error as he looked back to him. "Stars, I love you too, Ru..." he murmured, lights now pastel pink monster hearts. His voice broke slightly, "I love y-you so much...." _He wasn't going to let anything change that._

———

Reaper tightened his grip slightly on Geno, murmuring, "He's safe at home. It's been, what, five days? Almost six? Our brothers are taking care of them... we don't have to worry about them, Gen..." though his own SOUL clenched at the thought of his little hatchling... _was he doing okay...? Was he trying to learn to fly still...?_

The words from his first distracted Geno just enough to calm him. He... he was directly ordered not to ask questions concerning the length of their stay, but... 

Nightmare never clarified if that extended to questioning after someone mentioned it without prompting.

Trying to put the concerned thoughts of their son out of his head for now, the glitch swallowed nervously and dropped his voice to a whisper. Nightmare didn't clarify, but what if Geno was wrong? If he was, he didn't want anyone but his husband to hear.

"Is... is that how long it's been...?" He _knew_ it had only been a few days, but the fear Nightmare managed to insert into him alongside his doubt made the confirmation so much more wonderful to hear. "I-it...it hasn't..." he just needed to doublecheck. Make sure he heard Reaper right. "...it h-hasn't been a few weeks...?"

Reaper shook his head, though added a soft, "No, it hasn't quite been a week yet, Gen..." though worry laced his words.

The relief he felt was staggering. Had Geno been standing, he may fallen from the sheer force of it. "I...I thought so..." Sometime the meals came sooner, he thought, but he had no way of telling if that hunch was true or not until now. But he was fed one meal a day, so... "Okay." he whispered, so, so relieved his math was right.

Reaper pressed a kiss to the side of his head. "Gen, why would you think it's been longer...?"

 _I...I can't answer that._ That rule was made clear. He wasn't allowed to talk about the room he was being kept in, or where it was located. "I..." but he didn't know what to say in the place of the truth. "...I...k-keeping track w-was...is," he didn't get to stay with them, after all, "difficult. I didn't- I wasn't sure... I just didn't know how long it had been."

_I was starting to worry he wasn't lying._

———

Shifting a bit, Error freed one of his hands and pressed his palm to Ink's cheek. "I..." _I wish you weren't here, but the selfish part of me is glad you are. That I'm not alone here, even if being alone would be safer for you._ "I..."

Various other possibilities on what he could say filled his head.

_Don't let him take me away._

_If something happens, tell PJ I love him._

_I want that other baby, I think._

Out of everything, he settled for whispering, "I love you," again and pulled Ink down into a kiss that said more than he ever could.

Ink simply melted into him, kissing him back with the patience and love Error had grown used to. Being there, with each other, it made the other forget, if even for the moment, where they were. That Ink just beat another skeleton only hours ago. 

There weren't any flashbacks or negativities or... even Error's haphephobia had died down a little. 

Tears fell down their faces, easily wiped up by the other's thumbs. 

When they broke away, both wanted to dive in for more. They would have, had there not been a knock on the door.

 _Fuck_ , Error silently complained, resting his forehead against Ink and wishing neither would have to move, _that's probably Cross with the clothes._

———

Reaper nuzzled his cheek with Geno's. "...it's supposed to just be for a month... that's the deal... you don't get hurt if we stay obedient for a month, and Ki-" shifting uncomfortably, Reaper murmured, "Are you okay...?"

Feeling chilled despite the cold water, Geno turned so that he was facing Reaper and crawled onto his lap. Water splashed around them, but there was little care given to the mess as they readjusted, the glitch pressing himself close to feel the pounding beneath the god's sternum. 

"Gen...?"

Hiding his face in Reaper's neck, Geno closed his eye and slid his arms around the god. Honesty never came easy to him when it involved his own concerns, but he didn't want to lie. Not now, not here. "...I'm scared..." he admitted. "I'm really, really scared, Reaper." _I don't want to go back._

If it weren't for the way Reaper was leaning against the tub, his wings would have exploded around them and hid Geno from the world. _Be strong, be strong-_ "I'm scared, too," he breathed out, blinking once in surprise that he admitted it out loud. He closed his sockets and held Geno to him. _I'm scared too..._

_And isn't that what he wants...?_

———

The artist sighed too, reaching his abilities out and expecting nothing-

_It was like overflowing water being suffocated by a lid, but still being boiled-_

Ink sat up sharply, pushing Error back to stand protectively in front of him, just as the door was opened- 

And Horror stood there, dragging a huge axe behind himself. 

His one overlarge eyelight glared out at Ink. "I'm not one for violence," the skeleton growled, "But I'll make an exception for _you."_

Error, sitting up and dropping the blanket, growled, "You can't. Nightmare-" 

_"Nightmare_ would approve of you learning how to handle an ambush," Horror's grin widened, and he flung the axe hard at Ink's chest. 

For a crazy moment where adrenaline flooded Error's and Ink's systems, the artist considered letting the axe hit him. Horror wanted revenge for Ink's revenge? Let him take it. 

He also almost moved to the side, where Error would be just too slow to save himself with the strings he was pulling from his eyes- 

Ink's expression hardened. _Dodge or catch. There is no running away._

So Ink timed it perfectly. Tilting his chest just to the side to allow the axe another partial rotation, before grabbing it's handle and stopping it from cleaving into Error's shoulder. 

Horror tensed as an intense and familiar bloodlust flooded Ink. 

And it wasn't _Error's_ bloodlust Horror saw when he met the artist's gaze again.

Symbols a bright, angry red but not yet targets, Ink took a single step forward and easily hefted the weapon within his grasp up so that the blunt end of the axe rested on his shoulder. "Leave." he demanded, expression unnervingly blank for someone with hate so clear in his gaze.

Horror's single, large eyelight of a similar colored pulsed. Behind Ink, Error shifted with his strings in hand, the movement just enough to earn himself a quick glance to assess his threat level.

Ink snarled, "Don't look at him." 

"You used to protect us," Horror murmured, briefly throwing off Ink when the words were spoken once their eyes met. They weren't meant for him though. No, despite his eyelight watching Ink once more, Horror was speaking to Error. "You called us shitheads and idiots, but you laughed with us, too. You ate my food." Horror's smile was empty. Cold. "You used to be one of us, and you would have died for us if given the order. You were _our_ protector when _he”_ , he nodded to Ink, “was too busy saving everyone else to realize that, maybe, we were just bad guys because we needed saving too. Cause no one ever _bothered_ with us."

Error faltered slightly, "...I wasn't there to stop it, Horror." Fingers flexing, Error pulled his threads taunt in warning. "And even if I was, I wouldn't have stopped what happen. Maybe I wouldn't have let it get that far, but he hurt my brother, Horror."

"You know how Kills is. He was just playin’."

The thing was, Error _did_ know. Killer liked to push when he needed to step back; liked to play his games and didn't care when he stepped over the line simply because his lack of remorse made him blind to it. It wasn't always like that, but that's how things had been for years.

But Killer stepped over one line Error couldn't forgive. "And what did you do when one of our members _played_ with your brother? When you showed up too late to stop the _game?"_

Out of everyone in the room, Horror was the last person Ink expected to feel such agonizing sorrow from. Not anger, not hate... just a deep, heart wrenching sorrow.

"Kills doesn't mean it like they did. He doesn't know better."

Error stepped forward, just slightly enough to be shoulder to shoulder with Ink. "Whether he meant it or not, he _touched my brother_ , H. Ink was settling things the nightmare way. Just...leave, okay? Before Cross shows his ugly mug and you get dragged into punishment, too. You can't feed your idiot hp soup if your hands are broken."

For a long moment, Horror stared at the two silently; considering.

Then, the sound of muffled conversation reached their ears. _Geno_ , Ink stiffened.

Eye light burning brighter, Horror shot a slight apologetic look to Error. "I won't hurt your brother, like Kills did." he promised. "He shouldn't have done that." And then he was gone.

Error panicked and darted to the bathroom, Ink on his heels. _He said he won't hurt Geno, but-_

Just as they slammed open the bathroom door, splintering the wood, a loud, pained screech sent their skulls ringing; the noise instinctive to ward off others but created through sharp, burning pain that Ink felt as his own.

"R-Reaper!" Geno cried, eye wide with terror as the water their bath began turning an unnatural blue. Cyan.

_Blood._

Standing before the tub with a small hatchet in hand, Horror grinned ruthlessly as he tugged on the handle; forcing it free from the shoulder blade it had cut into deeply. Left in its wake was shattered, split bone and a river of blood further tinting the bath.

Overwhelmed by agony, Reaper tilted forward weakly and wrapped his arms around Geno; shielding him. Protecting him. _Move_ , he thought, _you...you have to move..._ but it hurt. Stars, it hurt so much he could barely see through the dots spotting his vision. His shoulder blades were- that's where his wings-

Horror raised the hatched over his head. This time, he aimed for the spine.

With a scream, magic flared in Geno's socket as he desperately dragged himself and Reaper through a small shortcut. Whatever magic was around made the jump difficult, but it was enough to get them across the room with the only cost being a sudden rush of dizziness and nausea on Geno's end. It was worth it though, for the impact of the hatchet had the ceramic of the bath shattering and water pooling at their feet.

Ink jolted when Horror turned to face where the wounded god now sat; nude, injured, and _vulnerable_ against attacks.

Before he could react, Error screamed in rage and shot his strings at the attacker; wrapping him up tightly and forcing his hatchet from Horror's hand to ensure he couldn't tear himself free. But it wasn't enough.

Sockets flashing red as his anger threatened to send him crashing, Error dug in deep, deep, _deep_ with his strings until they were wrapped around Horror's SOUL, keeping it hostage in a way he hadn't done in so long.

"CaLm tHe fUcK dOwN," he screeched, "aNd MaYbE I wOn'T kiLl yOu!"

Horror struggled, but only for a few seconds. He was never once able to free himself from this attack. Doing so now was equally impossible, he knew. Still... "An eye or an eye," he mumbled, "the nightmare way. By right, I get to do more."

Ink trembled at Error's side. It wasn't due to fear. "I'm the one who hurt him! Why- why would you-?!"

"You hurt **Kills** ," Horror snarled, "not yourself. It isn't even unless you get to piece one of _them_ back together. I said I won't hurt the brother, and Error would have dodged. I got the god, instead. I deserve **m o r e** though."

Error's eyes narrowed. "You got the _god_ , H." His fingers twitched, the threads around the SOUL tightening. "And I'm fucking PiSsEd about it. Leave _now_ , or you'll be reminded why my title wasn't _protector_ , no matter what shit I did for you."

"Error-" Ink protested, overcome by red for a brief moment at the thought of letting Horror go. "He-!"

"No," Error snapped. _Don't let your anger turn to regret later because you did something drastic, idiot._ "I'm going to let him go, he's going to leave, and he _isn't_ going to throw another fucking fit the next time one of us upsets him. No fucking arguments."

"Er-"

Spine straightening, Error turned his head and glared at Ink. Despite being shorter, despite the weapon in his husband's hand, he somehow seemed so large in that moment. In control.

 _Commanding_ , even.

"Ink, let it go," _for now, **please**_ , he tried to say with his eyes, "Horror, get out of here. **After** you give me your word this shit won't happen again."

For a moment, he thought Horror would argue.

Instead, the skeleton with the cracked head grinned, something like approval in his still angry eye. "Whatever you say, _Destroyer, Sir,"_ he chuckled, bringing forth their version of "boss" from the past. "I'll tell dear ole Cross about the mess."

Error didn't let himself react as he freed the willing nightmare. With cold eyes and a deep scowl, he merely watched as Horror left without sparing a glance to any of his husbands.

The moment the broken door clicked shut, he inhaled sharply and turned to face the bleeding, fallen god.

The four of them shook for different reasons, though Reaper tried to brace himself with his uninjured shoulder so the others could check on it. Cyan blood fell from his wound as tears fell from his tightly shut sockets. "Gen-?" 

"H-here..." the smallest whimpered. 

Ink dropped the weapon by the door and rushed to get the two of them their clothes. Error, in turn, knelt to Reaper's back and peered into the injury. He couldn't **heal** but maybe... 

"R-Reaps," Error gently touched some of the ribs, cringing as Reaper let out a sharp whimper. Steeling himself, Error pulled more strings from his eyes. "I-I'm g....gonna.... t-try to pull e-everything back to-together." 

Reaper turned a socket towards him, nodding slightly. Geno shuddered, turning to hide himself in Ink's clothes again, especially if he didn't have to see- 

"O-okay..." Error grabbed a dry wash cloth and folded it multiple times, "B....bite this..." Once Reaper did, Error got to work...


	52. The Celebration, p1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Geno doesn't get to have fun with his formal wear kink.

By the time Cross arrived with Geno's new clothes selection, he looked... well, still expressionless, but far from surprised to find the four husbands on edge in Error's room. 

Reaper was nursing his shoulder, having the bone pieces temporarily reconnected with Error's strings, and a sling created to fit under his robes. 

Geno was holding Ink tightly, unable to grip his brother or his first for the comfort he needed, and Ink was holding him back, wanting to give that comfort the best he could. 

Cross looked to all of them silently. Almost like he was waiting for one of them to start a fight or start crying or just _something._

"About time you brought the damn clothes," Error snapped. 

Safety hidden behind his shields, Cross felt a flash of- _No, we're not thinking about that right now._ He inclined his head to Error, just as he would do in the past when the destroyer was the second. "Apologies."

Error's eyes narrowed, catching the gesture despite it being so unremarkable to the others and recognizing it for what it was. Familiarity. Respect. "...Horror told you about the mess, I assume?"

"If you're referring to both the mess in the bathroom and the mess that was your interaction with Horror, then yes. I was informed." Cross said blandly as he stepped into the room. Rather than shut the door behind him, he reached back and dragged in a metal rack on wheels containing multiple clothing bags strung from hangers. "As was Nightmare."

They should have expected it, but the announcement still came as an unwelcome surprise. Truly, it wasn't that much of a shock, but there was just enough of the emotion that it left them feeling thrown off balance. "What are the clothes for?" Error asked, a sense of dread weighing his stomach. "You were just supposed to bring shit for Geno."

Cross met his eyes with an unreadable gaze. Error hesitated on calling his eyes cold, but he couldn't deny that there was no trace of the compassion he recalled Cross once being unafraid to show in the gaze he watched him with now. "You've impressed him by resorting to your old command, Error. He's rewarding that with a feast. A _formal feast_ , hence the clothing." Cross' gaze slid to Reaper. "God, this is yours to wear. Adjustments have been made to your clothing in consideration of your wound."

Following the motion of the second's hand as he reached out, Reaper watched without comment as Cross unzipped the first covered set of clothing and pulled the hanger it hung from off the rack. A suit, huh? Obviously a very expensive one judging by the fine material alone, but an overall underwhelming outfit with little to really take note of. Composed mostly of black, the clothing assigned to him was a simple fitted jacket, a matching waistcoat and tie, slacks, and a deep, violet dress shirt with a hint of indigo that acted as the only color. Oh, but wait... Squinting slightly, Reaper made out Nightmare's insignia in blinding white on the pocket of the suit's jacket. It wasn't much, but it did offer more than just the black Reaper actually preferred.

Most distressingly; however, were the shoes that Reaper's gaze fell onto last. Although he wasn't too happy about how constricting everything else looked, he would have been able to handle the tight clothing a lot easier if his feet weren't being confined as well.

"...The adjustments for my shoulder?" he questioned quietly, already displeased with what he had to wear.

Silently, Cross pulled out a simple roll of bandages and a medical sling to replace the makeshift one Error formed for him. With the tight fit of the dress shirt and jacket, the bandages would undoubtedly feel tight around his wound.

As Reaper resisted a shudder, Cross looked to Ink next. "Artist, this is your clothing for the night."

Ink's suit was similar to Reaper's in almost every way. The difference? In place of violet dress shirt was one the same shade of screen as Nightmare's toxic gaze. Ink didn't mind the restrictiveness of the clothing or the shoes...

But why did the primary color have to be _black?_ He didn't dislike the shadowy hue anymore than he hated white, but to have that poisonous green be the _only_ true color...? It felt like a taunt, in away. Ink got color in his outfit, yes, but had to suffer with being linked to Nightmare for it.

"Geno," Cross murmured, breaking Ink out of his thoughts as he pulled out a dress rather than a suit. Although the usual flares of red appeared, no one was really all that surprised considering the pattern Nightmare seemed to be going for when it came to choosing clothing for the glitch. At least the dress was tasteful...?

Short-sleeved with a high neckline, the dress was white like freshly fallen snow and looked as if the top portion stemming from the waist up would fit snugly. In comparison to the top of the dress, the skirt looked a lot looser; flaring out from the waist in a playful design rather than falling flat. It was hard to tell without it being on the glitch, but the dress looked as if it would end around either Geno's knees, or a few inches above; both of which served as a far more modest length than anyone really expected from something Nightmare chose.

The length and color wasn't all there was to the dress though. In addition to a pair of white heels meant to compliment the short gown, there was a slash loosely tied around the waist of the dress to serve as a pop of color because, rather than being white, the sash was similar in color to Error's infamous threads. It was long, too, the length of the decorative piece of clothing being just drastic enough that the ends would surely fall below Geno's knees even with the sash tied in a bow.

Just to ensure the sash was tied in with the dress, Nightmare's insignia was stitched into the white fabric of the high collar in the very same shade of color. _Why blue though...?_ It wasn't a color associated with Nightmare _or_ Geno. Then again, the latter fact actually made sense. By taking away Geno's red, Nightmare ensured there was little of the glitch's identity in what he was meant to wear for the evening.

 _At least it's not black..._ Geno thought with a shudder. He didn't mind wearing the color, but... Stars, he had more than enough of the dark color after the time he spent in the recreation of the save screen. Dark clothing wasn't anywhere close to actual darkness, but the lack of a reminder on his clothing was still appreciated.

Lastly, there was Error to address. Instead of naming him as he did the others, Cross simply pulled out the last hanger where a dress nearly identical to Geno's hung. Same high collar, same color... All in all, the only difference seemed to be the style. Instead of a fit-and-flare gown, Error's was a short, tight fitted dress meant to cling to the curves of his body. Clearly, it was designed to be sexier than the playful look of his brother's own dress, though Nightmare left a reminder that Error and Geno, like their husbands, _were_ meant to match. That reminder was another sash tied around the waist of the dress, it's color matching the insignia placed in the center of the neck as well. Instead of blue; however, the sash was-

Geno made a wounded noise, at first mistaking the crimson fabric as his scarf. But... but, no. It wasn't torn, for one, and even if it had been, his scarf.... It was...

_Gone... forever..._

"There's one more thing for you to wear, Error. Aside from the shoes, I mean." Another hanger was pulled off of the rack. This time, Error was the one to react with a noise of surprise when he saw what it carried.

His jacket.

His _old_ jacket from when he originally stood at Nightmare's side as second in command. _I... I thought I threw the damn thing in the trash...?_

There was an uncomfortable stillness that settled over the husbands as they thought about their clothing and the creature that ordered them to wear it. Cross, though not oblivious to the weight of their silence, broke it, "Dinner will be served in an hour. Everyone will be there, but there will _not_ be any fighting." His gaze flicked to each husband, though it seemed to stay on Ink a little longer than the others. "The _nightmare way_ between the artist and Killer is over, and the others have been informed of such by Nightmare himself. Though he still finds you i-impressive, your ability to follow orders is what's going to keep you in his good graces." 

_He has **good** graces?_ though Ink didn't dare voice the question aloud. 

Error narrowed his eyes. "A feast? What, because I snapped at Horror after he _hacked into_ one of my husbands?" 

"You _ordered_ the artist to stand down, Error. Not just that, either. You forced Horror to do the same and _both_ of them submitted to you. Both listened to what you commanded them to do, despite your previous title being revoked. That's..." For a moment, Cross and Error observed each other. Ink could almost see two dogs watching each other in their place, waiting for one to strike, but with neither actually moving to do so. Eventually, Cross broken the moment of silence and sighed. "Just wear the clothes to dinner and expect Nightmare to talk, alright?" 

Error muttered, "He always fucking talks..."

Cross couldn't quite stop the puff of breathy laughter that left him. Still, he at least tried to disguise it as a cough. _Leave it to Error to be the one to state the obvious in such a pissed off tone..._ "He does," Cross agreed, no visible trace of amusement seen to compliment the slight laugh, "but that just means you know what to expect. Unfortunately, that's just the first matter of business to discuss though. There's one last thing to mention."

Reaper sighed, done with this day that felt as if it would never end. "Geno?" he guessed, hating the way the glitch in question clutched Ink tighter in fear. _"I'm really, really scared, Reaper"_ echoed throughout his head, worsening his already prominent concern for his first.

Cross nodded, "After he's returned tomorrow, there will be no more earning his company as a gift. If Geno is allowed out of his room, it will be because Nightmare wishes it. Also, he's expected to go without the bandages on his face for tonight's event, so be sure to clean up any blood before appearing for dinner. Appearances matter."

"Is _Killer_ going to be allowed bandages?" Error growled, stepping forward to draw attention back to himself. As he did so, Ink held Geno closer, blinking through the white of the terror starting to form around the glitch to stare at Error's back. _I was just about to ask that..._

Shrugging, Cross said, "Just for whatever is underneath his clothes. Like I said, appearances matter. Nightmare doesn't want him to _ruin the formal outfit,"_ the words practically held air quotes around them. 

Error flashed back to the sealing wounds on Ink. _"These... these are going to scar on him"_ is what his first said. Desperately, he tried remembering if there were any wounds on Ink's face that cleared up, but-

"I'll leave you four to get dressed. Be finished by the time I arrive to lead you to the destination." And with that, Cross left, closing the door behind himself. 

Reaper glared at the suit and shoes. _This is a minor thing if it keeps Geno safe..._ but that didn't mean he had to like it. And being unable to 'win Geno' back as a 'gift'? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?! How are they supposed to trust-? 

Ink gently touched Reaper's forearm on his uninjured side. "Hey... take a breath for a second okay, hon...?"

Shoulder practically screaming at him in pain from the tensing he was unknowingly doing, Reaper grit his teeth and forced himself to relax with a small, bitten back cry. Inhaling sharply at the uncomfortable painful twinge, he shakily exhaled and counted that as the deep breath Ink requested.

"...I'm going to need help changing." he murmured, turning away from the clothing for now to nuzzle his face into Ink's neck. He wanted to hug Geno while he still could, but Ink's height put less strain on his movements. 

Wrapping an arm around the god's waist, Ink pressed a kiss to his skull and carefully rubbed away the remaining tension from his back and uninjured shoulder. "I can help you, Reapsy. Error, will you be okay in those shoes?"

The destroyer glared at the heels angrily. "Yeah."

"And you, Ge? ...Geno?" Ink asked, glancing down at the smaller skeleton still close to his side.

Eyes focused on the red sash around the dress assigned to his brother, Geno hummed in acknowledgment of his name but didn't seem to actually hear the question tossed his way. The white centered around his eventual return to his room was still around him, but the blue of sorrow was swirling through the snowy hue.

Gently, Ink touched Geno's shoulder. "Hon...?" The glitch jumped slightly, looking up to Ink, and the artist tried for a comforting smile he knew came out as concerned instead. "Will you be okay in the heels...?" Mutely, the smallest nodded. Ink's gaze flickered slightly, but he nodded too. "Okay... Let us know if you need-" 

"M-my scarf..." Geno blurted in a hoarse whisper, eye drifting to the red sash again. "It... That looks so much like-!" he bit back his next words and seemed to shrink in on himself slightly more. "I-I'll be okay..." 

Error's scowl darkened. "Let's just get this shit on." He wasn't unsympathetic, but dressing would at least act as a distraction for his brother. Not a very good one, but it was better than nothing and there wasn't much else to do when they had to be ready by a certain time. "Come here, Ge. I'll help you with your dress.

For the next hour, the four worked on dressing in the formal clothing. Ink helped Reaper with a majority of his dressing; redoing the bandages he wore before aiding him in stepping into his slacks and sliding on the dress shirt, vest, and jacket. He felt bad about adding to Reaper's pain, but the clothing wasn't optional and the sling at least helped lessen the purple hues from the god. While Ink focused on Reaper, Error helped Geno into his dress and shoes before tying the blue sash around his waist and waiting his face clean. It looked... bad, but his touch was light enough that none of the scabbing gave way to blood.

Husband and brother taken care of, it was then Ink and Error who were left to get dressed quickly. 

Although Error said he'd be okay in the shoes, it was a whole other matter getting them on. Ink knelt down in front of him and helped to buckle his feet into the intricate, and admittedly beautiful, design. "There you go, hon. Now we're all set."

Reaper glanced at everyone and ended up doing a double take on Ink's tie. "Hon, you-" 

"Dumbass," Error grumbled. He pulled Ink down enough to redo the tie so it was proper, then checked on Reaper's and did the same. "You still don't know how to tie a tie?" 

Faintly blushing, Ink murmured, "I forgot..." 

Luckily for him, Error had bigger concerns than berating his first for forgetting. Nervously, Error went over everyone's outfits again, making sure everything was in place, and that Geno's bandages were off, and everyone's shoes were tied and- 

Geno grabbed his wrist lightly, "Ru... we can't be late...."

Giving everyone one last look, Error sighed and turned to the door. "Yeah," he murmured, taking a steady step forward with a quiet click of his heels, "you're right. Let's get going…"

Taking the lead, he pushed open his bedroom door and wasn't at all surprised to find Cross. That being said, the fine clothing the second wore nearly had him stumbling; the extremely well cut, fitted violet suit worn open over a white dress shirt and black waistcoat something he never once saw Cross wear. Eyeing the waxed clean shoes and black tie with a familiar white insignia, Error cleared his throat; oddly finding himself needing to swallow to soothe the dryness in his mouth.

"Cross," he greeted, stepping out into the hall. "Since when do you own anything that isn't white and black?"

Expression carefully blank as he eyed Error then the rest of the group, the second shrugged and pushed himself off of the wall he was leaning against during his wait. As he did so, the fabric of the jacket over his shoulders and arms strained slightly, making them wonder whether or not anything was formed for the pseudo muscle to flex in such a manner. "Since when do you wear white?" Cross shot back.

Biting back a snide remark about Nightmare and his apparent need to play dress up, Ink followed his first into the hallway where he got his own eyeful of Cross in his very complimenting suit. _Violet’s a good color on him,_ he thought a little distractedly, real focus on Reaper as the god winced when reaching out to shut the door behind them pulled at his shoulder wound. 

Out of an instinctive need to help his husband, Ink reached out. Remembering himself at the last moment, he pulled his hand back to his side and dropped his arm.

Noticing, Cross sighed, "Since this is a celebration feast of sorts, Nightmare has allowed you four certain freedoms for the night. Drinking, free conversation... among those freedoms, touching and interacting with each other as you pleased is allowed, though he wants you four to pair up for your entrances."

_Sliding his arm through Nightmare's, Error allowed himself a small smile as a tendril slid around his waist and pulled him closer. "I'm not going to be able to walk if we're this close, Night."_

_Nightmare chuckled, something he would one day learn to fear in his gaze. "You say that as if you being unable to walk isn't one of my favorite goals, lover. But you're right, fun later. For now, we have appearances to keep for our entrance."_

A hesitant hand landed on Error's arm, bringing him back to the present. "Are you okay with walking with me?" Geno asked, expression a bit twisted at the thought. He loved Error, but his brother definitely wasn't his first choice for this. "I think it'll be easier for Reaps to link arms with Ink. Even with these heels, I'm still shorter than him and I don't want to risk straining his shoulder just to be close."

"I'm fine, Gen." Reaper complained.

The glitch shot him a worried look. "You're _hurt." Because of me..._ he kept to himself. 

For a moment, god and glitch stared at each other. Obviously, they wanted to be with the other, but Geno was right. Ink's height would be better suited (heh) for helping Reaper if the other needed it. Glancing once to Cross, who turned away, Reaper leaned down enough to press a kiss to Geno's head and murmur, "Okay..." He laced his uninjured arm through Ink's, and the artist tried his hardest to ignore his husband's pain. 

Error nodded to Geno, looking to his other husbands once his arm was linked with his brother's. His eyes met Ink's again, a silent question there, but the artist murmured, "We're-" 

"Fine," Reaper muttered again. 

Cross started leading them away, "Then let's go. As I mentioned before, the nightmare way between you all and the others is over, so don't try and start anything." 

"Tch, I still don't understand what we're _actually_ celebrating." The real reason had to be more than Error's bossiness impressing Nightmare. In search of an answer, he glanced to Cross, but the second didn't look back. 

"You'll see."


	53. The Celebration, p2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nightmare slays, mingling happens, and no one dies! ...surprisingly!

For the most part, their walk to the dining room was silent aside from the echoing clicks of the brothers' heels. _Click, click, click..._

As they turned the corner, a dull throb began to start up in Reaper's head; focused right behind his eyes. The clicks... in a way, they resembled the ticking of a clock. _Click, click, click..._

 _Tick, tock, tick..._ he heard instead, each little sound earning a sympathetic throb. _It's starting_ , he realized, trying his best to ignore both the pain in his shoulder and the small ache of his head. 

_Click, click, click..._

Tick, tock, tick...

Vision swimming, Reaper came to a stop in the middle of a hall. "I...I need a moment..." he murmured, brows furrowed in pain. 

"Reaps...?" Ink whispered, concerned. He understood the shoulder pain, but he couldn't think of a reason for the god's headache. _Why is he...?_

When Geno and Error halted, the clicking of their heels stopped and brought the sound he was tricking himself into hearing to an end as well. Breathing through the pain, Reaper slowly relaxed as the ticking faded from his nonexistent ears. "I...I'm okay now," he promised, leaning slightly into Ink.

Geno looked to him worriedly. "Are...are you sure, hon?"

"Even if he's not, we need to keep moving. We're at risk of being late." Cross informed the group.

Waving off the concerned looks with a smile, Reaper slowly began walking with a bit of his weight being taken by Ink. Hesitantly, the brothers started up as well but this time, the god was quick to start up a conversation to drown out the sound of their shoes.

"You four all look nice," he complimented, truth in the statement. "I'm a little surprised about you though, Ru. I've never seen you wear a dress before."

One of Cross' steps hesitated and he nearly tripped from the compliment, though he focused again on his feet as Error answered, "There's a reason for that." 

"Self-conscious about your bones...?" Reaper nudged. 

"Not exactly." 

Ink subtly held Reaper closer, smiling a little at the god, "We haven't seen you in a dress, and no, your robes don't count." 

"My back would be too sexy for you to handle," Reaper joked.

Although the comment wasn't meant to be taken seriously, Ink found himself picturing it. Reaper in a black, backless gown... "You'd look beautiful," he murmured.

Surprised, the god flushed a pretty cyan. "I don't wear dresses, babe."

Geno carefully turned to face his first, trusting his brother to guide him and stop him from walking into anything. "We could change that, Reapsy. You don't like anything tight fitted, right?"

Flustered but not _entirely_ against the idea, Reaper carefully shrugged. "My robes are good enough." But... glancing between Ink and Geno, he blushed a little deeper. "...Maybe a dress like Geno's? I'm okay with the top being tight as long as the entire thing isn't and there's room for my wings."

 _Definitely backless_ , Ink decided, liking the image he had in his head. 

Subtly tugging on Geno's arm to get him to turn back around, Error came to a stop behind Cross and the infamous double doors of Nightmare's preferred decorative entrances. Only, he was tense, everyone soon realized. 

When the doors opened, they realized why. Distracted, they hadn't realized they were being led not to the dining room, but the _throne room_ where the doors opened to reveal a large banquet table set up in the sizable, glimmering room.

Slowly, Error took in a breath. _Please don't let this celebration involve dancing, please don't-_

Gently, Cross murmured, "Let's go," before stepping in. 

Across the hall, they saw Killer and Horror in a pair of matching outfits, clearly meant to compliment each other. Horror's was a suit without a vest or tie. The dress shirt was a blood crimson, while the open jacket and pants were a deep black with a clear white of Nightmare's insignia on the pocket. 

Killer's spaghetti-strap dress was just as crimson red as Horror's shirt. It was _short_ on the skeleton, stopping just inches below where his cheeks would be if they were formed. The back of the dress was a see-through lace, allowing the husbands to see every single bandage that held him together. There were no bandages on his lower legs, his arms, or his face, to disguise the nasty bruises setting in, or the scabs that would surely scar. 

Ice seemed to pass between Killer and Ink when their gazes met, but Ink offered a half-grin. Dangerous, albeit playful. _I'll do what I'm told, but I'll still protect them._

Horror's dull gaze glanced between each of the husbands with annoyance. 

Endure stood a little ways away. He was dressed smartly in a long tuxedo that complimented his height very- 

Geno had to hold in a whimper at seeing Endure's scarf in place of the tie.

Unlinking their arms, Error took his brother's hand in his own and offered a tight, reassuring squeeze. _It's okay_ , he hoped Geno read in the gesture. Quietly, he murmured, "Don't you dare even look at the alcohol. You'll get tipsy with just a glance."

His teasing got the reaction he was hoping for. Snorting, Geno tore his gaze from his- from Endure's scarf to look at Error with a small smile quirking his grin upwards. "I'm not that bad."

"Whatever you say, glitch face." Error whispered back, eyes roaming around the room as he led his brother and husbands to the banquet table. No Nightmare, yet. _Then again, he loves being especially late for this bullshit._

Before they could take their seats, Endure cleared his throat from across the room; a look of clear judgment in his eyes as he stared at the small group with a frown. "We are expected to mingle before the dinner," he informed them, clearly disproving of their lack of knowledge about the night's events.

Cross sighed, knowing he was actually the one at fault for getting to inform them. "My mistake, you four. I should have informed you of this beforehand." _I shouldn't have gotten distracted and left so soon._ "Before dinner, there will be conversation, wine, and hors d'evours."

Error relaxed. Until-

"Following dinner, there will be dancing. If you're asked to dance, you're expected to agree. You're also expected to branch out beyond your usual group."

"Dancing...?" Reaper murmured. 

Cross glanced to the god and nodded slowly. "Yes, even you." 

"Whores de- what...??" Ink frowned. 

_"Hors d'evours_ , Inky," Error glanced back. "They're, basically just fancy appetizers." 

"Why not just _call_ them appetizers?" 

"Why call your brushes specific to the media you use them for?" 

"Because- oh." It was a class thing. Nightmare being extra. At Ink's understanding, Error turned slightly away again. 

The willing nightmares and the husbands stared at each other. Animosity, especially after the day they've had, clear in their eyes. Endure was caught up on the events of the day, but- 

Cross sighed heavily and raised his voice, addressing everyone, "You all know what's expected of you. Now go. Mingle." 

Silence. 

The second stared at each of them. He took in a breath, "Alright, _fine._ Killer and Error. Horror and Artist. Endure and God. Geno and me. Go."

With a put upon sigh, Error made his way to his old companion. As he walked, his jacket flared out behind him slightly and he was just able to catch Killer's annoyed mutter of "Dramatic asshole" before he finished closing the distance between them.

"Better dramatic than flashy. Or should I say _flashing?_ One wrong step and anyone is going to see your tail bone." Error shot back, the lingering anger from Killer's attack on his brother nearly letting a few pointed insults slip. "I'm surprised hole head let you out like that."

Scowling, Killer crossed his arms, though the action had him wincing. "Boss' selection, dumbass. We wear what he wants us to."

Pausing, Error took a longer look at Killer. Behind the scowl and glaring, dark eyes, there was a look of discomfort. _...Nightmare picked a dress that would show off his wounds._ The thin straps, the lace, the tiny length... 

There was an old lingering fondness and sense of empathy within him that made him want to comfort the shorter skeleton. 

Error stomped it down ruthlessly. Pity or not, _Killer messed with his family_ and that wasn't something he could let go of so easily.

Across the room, Horror and Ink were standing in a tense silence. Similar to their silence was a tense air as Reaper and Endure stood facing one another; their eyes met, but cold as they let the silence drag on.

Sighing, Cross turned his head to look down at Geno. Even with the added height of the heels, he found himself looking down into a single eye light and the fresh lines carved into his face. _Kills did a number on him..._

Geno fidgeted nervously with the sash around his waist. "I-if you sigh any more, you m-might lose it from y-your head." 

"Heh," Cross turned slightly more towards the smaller skeleton. "Yeah, you're probably right." 

Endure drained the rest of the wine in his hand before observing Reaper more closely. "God of Death, huh?" 

"One touch kills, so don't touch me." 

"Tch, no problems." 

Ink and Horror still hadn't spoken, but not without trying on the artist's half. The problem? Every single subject Ink could think of led somehow to weapons, or injuries, or family. So he stayed quiet. 

And all Horror could think about was the way Reaper cried out when his hatchet embedded itself into his shoulder. Nightmare did threaten something about not baiting the husbands tonight. There was probably a better time to do so, so Horror muttered, "Never seen you wear only two colors before." 

Ink forced himself to relax. Slightly. "Not a huge fan of less than eight colors." 

"Thank goodness your horrible _style_ won't affect dinner." 

"Evening is still young!" Ink forced a chuckle.

Responding only with a quiet hum, Horror let his eye drift across the room as a guise for checking on Killer. Whatever he and Error were talking about had his scowl deepening, but he knew the murderous skeleton's tells well enough to pinpoint the expression as one of annoyance rather than true anger.

Likewise, Ink saw through Error's blank expression as nothing more than disinterest. _He's angry, but he doesn't plan to act on it._ Heh, Error was showing better restraint than him today, it seemed. "They looked like they're having fun," he mumbled, though it wasn't a statement he believed.

Horror surprised him with a nod. "Error used to like teasing Killer. Different than the fun he'd have with Cross though. Probably cause he still sees Killer as a kid."

 _A kid...?_ "How old is he?"

"...Don't remember." Horror admitted, a hand absentmindedly reaching up to trace the broken, jagged hole in his skull. "Think he was...seventeen? Eighteen when he joined? I dunno, he and his Paps were closer in age than most pairs."

 _He's younger than Geno..._ Killer was far from being considered a child, but he was still younger than Ink's youngest husband. That was... Without comment, Ink skimmed over the wounds left visible by the revealing dress. Guilt settled in his chest. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake it.

Hiding a smirk at the conflicting in Ink's eyes his words caused, Horror turned away from Ink and began striding towards Killer and Error. "Go save your god from End. I'm not sure how much he'll be able to _endure_ if the newbie loses his temper. That shoulder is gonna slow him down if he gets attacked."

Sure enough, End seemed to be growing increasingly annoyed with whatever he and Reaper were speaking about. Shooing away his guilt, for now, Ink quickly made his way over. 

He was a second too late, however.

With an uncharacteristic snarl, Endure tossed whatever remained in a newly required glass of wine in the god's face before turning around and striding to the corner of the room to revel in his own foul mood.

Ink stepped back to the table to grab a napkin, then approached Reaper, who took the napkin and wiped at his own face. Cross glanced over to shoot Endure a warning look that went completely ignored.

"Are you okay...?" 

Reaper chuckled drily. "Wasn't exactly planning on wine right now, but it isn't horrible." He licked what remained from his teeth and let loose a breath. He looked to Geno, seeing his first still standing somewhat at ease by Cross. _And far from Killer and Horror._

Ink looked to his own first. Still unimpressed an unamused, Error stood by his old comrades as Killer wrapped an arm around Horror's wide waist, cringing through the pain to be closer to the bigger skeleton. Catching Ink's eye on him again, Killer bristled and hid slightly. 

Reaper noticed. "Dinner's going to be interesting..." he murmured, dread laced in each word. 

The double doors creaked open just then, and Nightmare walked in- 

Wearing a champagne-coloured, floor-length dress. The color was nearly a mockery of Dream- 

The dress began modestly covering his chest and shoulders and flowed down, just barely hovering above the floor. From around his waist, there was a woven sash with every key color of the members present in a beautiful, near rainbow pattern. From that sash to the rest of the dress, there was progressively more silver glitter that, when he took a step, shimmered and gave a nearly ethereal vibe to his outfit- 

_Shit._

Each step revealed the two slits that began high up on each of his thighs, and trailing behind him in a nearly lazy, swishing manner, were his tendrils. 

Reaper grabbed for Ink's wrist. _The asshole was wearing a backless dress..._

Socket half-lidded as he glanced around the room, Nightmare met the eyes of every skeleton under his command with a pearly, unnervingly perfect smile. "Good evening," he purred, heavy gaze lingering on Error.

Stalking forward with slow, controlled steps in heels that put those Geno and Error wore to shame, Nightmare made his way down the fine strip of carpet splitting the gleaming floors in two. Every step he took drew attention to his legs as the slits of his gown parted to tease with a look at smooth, attractive legs formed with ecto matching the color of his eye. 

When Ink caught himself staring, revulsion shot through him. A similar disgust from the god at his side informed him that Reaper's attention was snagged by the display as well. _This is **Nightmare**_ , he reminded himself. _Get a hold of yourself, damnit._

Having felt the eyes on his form, Nightmare's smile grew into a smug smirk; hidden from them all as he neared his throne. With an air of regal, unpracticed grace, he took his rightful place above them all on the dark throne and slowly, seductively crossed his leg; the slit of his dress spilling fabric to the sides so that his leg remained bare. Dangerously, temptingly, a hit of his thigh was clearly seen.

Error swallowed when that bright, gleaming gaze returned to meet his eyes. As Nightmare address the entire group, their stare never broke. "What's this?" he drawled. "Have none of you formed your flesh? The clothing you all wear was designed to fit _perfectly_ , you all." Playfully, he extended his crossed leg, showing off the ecto and offering a glimpse at the incident underwear he wore as the shifting briefly revealed the cloth. "Follow my example, nightmares."

Even Killer shifted uncomfortably, knowing the dress he wore would reveal far too much if he risked the formation of magic. "Night-"

Still displeased with him, Nightmare broke his stare with Error just to toss Killer a firm glare. Once he did so, he was quick to continued peering into the destroyer's eyes. "You have your orders."

Discreetly, Geno uncomfortably shifted behind Cross. Error was better off with his jacket, but Geno didn't have anything else to wear with his dress. His very _white_ dress. With ecto as bright and red as his was... _It's going to show through the dress._

Even Reaper tensed slightly again, a flash of pain echoing through his and Ink's shoulders. The suit was already a close fit on him before ecto. And that broken-headed asshole hit a _really_ bad spot to be trying to do any sort of magic formation with. Ink shared a look with the god, thoughts unknowingly echoing within their minds. 

Cross and Endure were the first ones to form their ecto. Geno, still hiding slightly and begrudgingly thankful for the dress' built-in bra, slowly formed his own. Horror nudged Killer, and the two were next. 

Ink was hesitating, torn between Reaper's nervousness with his magic, and Error's growing mess of emotions hidden behind his bored stare at his old boss. Sensing his first husband's gaze on him, Error turned his lights to Ink, and seemed to calm down slightly. He took a breath, and on the next exhale, he filled out the dress. Ink hesitantly smiled to him. 

Reaper was trying to focus, but each attempt to form his ecto shot another bolt of pain through his spine until sweat was forming on his skull.

His struggle did not go unnoticed. 

"Having trouble there, god?" Nightmare asked, brow raised and smile now replaced by a teasing skirt. "Strange, I would have thought you knowledgeable about such formations. I mean," leaning forward on his throne as if eager to share a secret, he purred, "dear, sweet _responsive_ Genocide didn't seem to think anything amiss when I demonstrated the skill for him." _While wearing your face_ , went unsaid.

But the husbands heard the taunt clear as day. 

Humiliated, Geno took another step behind Cross to escape the eyes that glanced at him curiously. _What are you doing?_ he asked himself, just barely stopping his own hands from reaching up and clutching at Cross' jacket in nervousness. _How many times are you going to hide when you're upset?_

Nightmare's gaze flickered to him. More than a little ashamed at his own weakness, Geno fully hid behind the second thankfully withholding any comments he had.

Magic sparking in his socket from anger, Reaper grit his teeth as poured what he could into the severed stores of magic in his broken shoulder blade. It hurt, stars did it hurt, but he refused to let himself waver as he slowly filled out what little room there was in his suit. When the cloth of the fitted shirt and jacket pressed into his wound, he swallowed a scream and smiled prettily for the asshole on the throne; sweating and panting, but victorious in the smallest of ways.

Feeling slightly faint from the pain he felt as his own, Ink forced his own pained noise down and formed his own multicolored magic.

Nightmare nodded in approval. "Excellent." He praised, checking them over and landing his eye on Error yet again. Making no move to hide his obvious interest, he took his time with inspecting the destroyer; admiring the way the white of his dress clung to shapely curves and the sight of bare legs. "We have quite some time before dinner. Continue amusing yourselves as you see fit."

Ink looked to Reaper briefly, but the god squeezed his hand and let go, making his way over to Cross and Geno. To his credit, the second moved only slightly to allow Geno to be hidden by both taller skeletons. The artist, in turn, turned towards his first husband and practically strutted over. He made it clear where he was going, but Killer still bristled and tightened his grip on Horror. 

Once Ink was there, he offered Error his arm. The shorter skeleton rolled his lights, a slight smile on his face, even as concerned eyes glanced to their others. 

"Tch, copying us now, are you?" Horror muttered. 

"In your dreams, hole-head." 

Ink felt a flash of pain inside but snuffed it out as fast as possible. 

In the meantime, Reaper was subtly checking up on Geno. Sure, the built-in bra was there, but it wasn't _doing_ much, was it...? Cross seemed to read that in his expression. "You can give him your jacket. Like I said, you four have been granted certain liberties tonight..." 

But the way Cross said it... it was almost like he was implying something else. The husbands weren't blind to Nightmare's intense attention, though they pretended to be. Reaper nodded once to Cross, mentally thankful that Ink had the jacket secured over the sling instead of under. Carefully, he took the jacket off and draped it over the shoulders of his first. 

Geno was relieved to slide his arms in and button the top one. Just enough to further hide his larger chest from view.

Curling his hand in the buttoned material over his chest just for good measure, Geno stepped closer and carefully curled an arm around the god's; just low enough that Reaper wouldn't have to slouch or strain to adjust for him. "Thanks, Cross." The well dressed, scarred skeleton didn't have to offer them a solution, but he did. "...Did you beat your game yet?"

Reaper's blank eyes jumped to Cross. "Game?" he questioned, just as Geno's socket widened and a panicked look was shot to Nightmare.

Cross quietly cursed and subtly stepped in closer to block Geno's face from being seen just as Nightmare looked over, sensing the panic and fear. "He's too far to hear," he murmured, leaning in like he and the other two were speaking intimately. "Don't make your mistake obvious, though."

 _Mistake?_ Reaper frowned, glancing between the two.

Guilty due to what he let slip, Geno bowed his head slightly and played with the cuff of Reaper's sleeve. "..."

"...We...talk..." Cross whispered, allowing Reaper the information that really shouldn't have been shared. More secret keepers, more ways of that secret getting out. "Technically, we're not allowed to. Not outside of informing him of orders, that is." _But he needs **something** to distract him from the darkness in his room._

 _So even the loyal second breaks the rules every now and then...?_ Keeping his feelings from being reflected on his face, the god nodded. "...Thanks," he said, but left it at that.

Cross got the message anyways. _Thanks for being nice to him._

Nerves shot from what wasn't as close as a call as he believed, Geno glanced around them. His eyes settled on a table close to his brother, other husband, and the unnerving company they kept. "...I could use a drink," he mumbled, but his real focus was on the tiny offerings of food on the table. _That's more food than I've been given all week..._ Embarrassingly, his stomach growled.

"No wine, remember?" 

Geno nodded, only slightly terrified of what would happen should he... 

Cross' attention was already back on Endure, who isolated himself with a tray of treats. Sighing, he muttered to the husbands, "Don't cause trouble," as if they needed to remember that, and he stalked over to the taller skeleton. "End," he greeted. 

"Second," End inclined his head respectfully, though annoyance gleamed in his eyes. 

Cross studied him for a bit before his expression softened. "Listen. Think of this as a mission. A... an info-gathering mission." 

"Doesn't the boss have all the information he needs?" 

"Yes, but do you?" 

End blinked slowly, then frowned. "I already know what I need to know-" 

"With information passed to you," Cross' voice grew sharp. "How lazy. I never thought a fellow ex-royal guard would ride the coat-tails of those around them. Can't you gather your own information? Make their own conclusions? Are you really expecting us to bottle feed you everything?" Cross didn't let up, even with End's growing ire. "This is now a covert information-gathering mission. I want you to talk to each of the people here, then report to me at the end of the night with your impressions of them and _why_ you got those impressions. You know how you can start doing that?" 

"...." End glanced away. 

"Look at me." He did. "Do you know how you can start doing that?" 

"....by talking to them....?" 

"Exactly. So go. Talk. Mingle. Try and let go of your anger enough to pay attention to what's going on, then report back to me later. This is an unofficial test from me, but I still expect greatness from you. Understand?" he let a hint of authority into the last word, which had Endure's chest puffing up slightly. 

"Yes, sir." 

"Then, go. And eat some hors d'evours while you're at it." Cross slapped Endure on the ass, effectively shoving him towards the rest of the party.

Yelping, Endure jumped as his hands flew to his bottom. Face a bright, glowing orange, he spun back around to sputter at Cross, admonishing his inappropriate behavior and working himself up into a flustered fit.

Chuckling, Cross raised his hands in front of himself; palms out. "Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean anything by it."

"G-good!" Endure snapped, cheeks still dusted with color. Giving him one last firm, scolding look, he returned to his appointed mission and looked around the room for his first objective. _The god will do, I suppose,_ he decided, figuring he was at least a little prepared for the deadly skeleton's behavior. Although... 

Shaking the doubt formed by the sight of the small glitch at the god's side, Endure made his way back over to Reaper with calm expression forced on his face.

Endure didn't know the god saw his approach when he moved to have his body between Geno and End. It was a subtle thing, considering how Reaper and Geno were still exchanging words in a soft murmur, but it was something End took note of. End slowed down once he got to the table to pick up some toast points. "S-so-" he cleared his chest and rumbled, "So, god. These... little foods are good, yes?" 

Reaper glanced up to him, a blank _are you serious?_ stare in his eyes. "...they're good...." 

Geno, though not fully hidden behind Reaper still had to peer slightly to look to him- except his eyes stayed on End's scarf.

Ink, still holding onto Error's arm, watched End approach his other two husbands, only half-listening to Error making small talk with his old comrades.

Adjusting for Geno when his smallest husband hesitantly stepped out from behind him, Reaper slid the arm from his uninjured side around the glitch's shoulder and held him close to his side. He didn't like the expression settling on Geno's face the more his first eyed the scarf. He disliked the way Endure barely glanced at him before.

But they were meant to behave. To mingle and pass around useless small talk as they played to the rules in the game Nightmare constructed, so Reaper smiled. Wide and fake, but with a pleasantness easy to believe and fall for. 

"However..." he licked his teeth, the faint taste of wine still present. "...I think I enjoy the alcohol more. It's quite delicious, isn't it?"

 _He's embarrassed,_ Ink noted, eyes turning back to the couple before him to hide where his true focus was. _Not apologetic, but definitely embarrassed he behaved so childishly. Good._

Endure cleared his throat slightly. "I suppose it is, though I'm not usually one to drink. I prefer juices."

A hint of genuineness warmed Reaper's smile. "Ah, my brother Respite does too." He didn't let himself falter over the mention of his little brother. Instead, he fell back on his usual teasing, annoying personality and grinned at the Papyrus who wouldn't look his own brother in the eye. "You'd like him, I'd think. Heh, I don't suppose you'd be interested in marrying him, would you? He could use someone in his life."

Unintentionally, Endure inhaled a crumb and found himself taking in a deep breath to cough it up. Once he got control of himself again, his voice was hoarse," Y-your brother...??" _M-m-m-marry?!?!?!_

"Yeah, I have a brother. He's basically the best brother ever. No one can compare." 

"That sounds like-" Endure stopped, gaze finally flicking down to Geno's. Geno's eye light met his before dropping to the table and taking another bite of food. _That sounds like..._

_Sans chucked another rock at the retreating monsters, screaming, "YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW!! YOU JUST MISSED OUT ON HAVING THE COOLEST FRIEND EVER, BECAUSE YOU'RE TOO CHICKENSHIT TO SEE HOW COOL HE IS!!"_

_Papyrus looked up at him, tears in eyes. "Brother, they said I was a loser..."_

_Sans whirled to him, dropping down to wrap his arms around his little brother, though the 'little' was in age alone. Papyrus was already an entire head above Sans. "Don't listen to them! You're not a loser. You're training with Undyne, right? You're going to be in the Royal Guard! Then **Captain** of it! That's the coolest, bro! **You** are the coolest!"_

The memory that both Geno and Endure seemed to remember faded, and both glanced away. _Even then, did he always have such bags under his eyes...?_ Endure snuck another glance to Geno, finally noticing the knife lines under his eyes. 

He mentally kicked himself for not seeing them earlier. Of _course_ he heard what happened with Killer being beaten up by Ink, but the rest was... confused. Was he ordered to? Was he _allowed_ to? And why did Killer need to be punished? Well, seeing the lines, End finally had his answer. He shook his head and returned his attention to the god. "I assume your brother has the same.... _quirk_ as you?" 

"We ain't the gods of death for nothing."

Endure frowned, confused but just prideful enough that he didn't want to admit to it. This was about information gathering, though. There was little he could learn if he did not put in the effort. "How can there be multiple gods of deaths?"

"Eh, multiple implies a lot more than just two." Catching Geno staring at the food on the table, Reaper carefully reached out just slow enough to ease into the movement on in his injured side and took up a small plate of various treats. "Here, hon," he smiled, passing the glitch the plate before turning back to End. "Res and I are the _only_ gods of our station. Our abilities are identical, but..." his eyes softened, "Respite is gentler. Handles the kinder side of things."

_"I Recall Your Brother." Respite admitted one early morning, long before Reaper would ever bother waking from his rest. Seated across the table from his future brother-in-law, he whispered, "It Required Quite Some Thought To Ensure I Was Recalling The Right One, But... I'm Sure It's Him, I Recall."_

_Tears filled Geno's socket. " **You** remember him? Not... n-not...?"_

_"Yes," Respite said with soft eyes and a softer smile, "I Remember Collecting Him, Though I Apologize For Having Had To At All."_

_But Geno was too busy sobbing to manage a response. To utter the thanks for the information because while he couldn't bring the brother he knew best back, at least he **knew.**_

_Paps didn't suffer. Despite the horror of his death, despite the tragedy of being struck down by someone he tried too hard to befriend, Paps didn't suffer nearly as much as Geno always feared he did. Not if Respite was the one to gather is soul._

Staring down at his plate, Geno stuffed a small piece of shrimp in his mouth to prevent himself from saying anything stupid.

"A kinder side of death...?" Memories of the recent resets on his world flashed in End's mind, and he had to shove his fists into his pockets. "What kinder side of death?" 

"Old age, usually. Passing away in sleep. Sometimes, it's a terminal illness or something that the person has accepted, regardless the age." Reaper glanced to End. Grin still in place but a subtle look of concern under his sockets. "Ya sure you want to talk about _death_ with me? It doesn't seem like something you'd be interested in." 

"I... was just making conversation," he defended lamely.

With that, the two fell into a silence. 

Uncomfortable with the thick air, Geno shifted and set his empty plate down only to find that being empty-handed made the discomfort worse. Habitually, he lifted a hand to the high neckline of his dress and searched for the familiar fabric he kept expecting to be there, forgetting that ash couldn't quite be worn. 

Neutral smile crumbling, he kept raising his hand until he brushed up against _something_ to fiddle with. He shouldn't, he knew, but he felt empty-handed and it also just-

Glancing to make sure no one was watching, Geno carefully picked at a scab. _It itches._ he tried to reason, finding a little relief in the action.

Reaper glanced down and gently moved his hand away, murmuring, "Gen, it'll scar..." 

Nightmare tapped a spoon to a wine glass, catching everyone's attention at once. "Find your seats." 

_At last… actual food…_


	54. The Celebration, p3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nightmare has too much fun with _his_ formal wear kink.

Everyone seemed to relax at finally having this part of the evening over with. As with the previous dinners, the willing nightmares sat on one side and the husbands on the other side. Nightmare rose from his throne to swish over to the head of the table and sit down. Ink was the closest to him, with Error on his other side, then Reaper, and Geno sat between his first and Cross. Nightmare chuckled. "You thought because we'll be starting dinner soon that I would want you all to be seated like this? Error, Cross, come sit closer to me. Artist, switch spots with Horror." Once everyone moved, the king grinned further. "Isn't that better?" 

_To be sitting between Killer and Endure? Ink thought miserably. A small mercy to not move Geno from Reaper though..._ But looking to Error, Ink noticed what Nightmare just did. 

The phantom limbs on Error's legs the other day... it would be easy for the king do replicate that again. Especially with how short- 

Ink shot his gaze to the plate to keep his red lights from flashing.

"Now, before we begin our special little feast, allow me to share with you all the reason behind this celebration. As I'm sure you're all aware, our infamous destroyer here used to stand by my side as second."

Sure enough, Ink's worries presented themselves as a valid concern at the sensation of something brushing over his ankle. Quick and light, the touch was almost playful. Ticklish, even.

More than anything, it was _revolting_ with the knowledge of who the touch was coming from.

Firmer, the touch returned; slick and uncomfortably warm as it circled the delicate ankles of Ink's first. "We did such wonderful things together, didn't we?" Coiling around formed flesh as it went, the tendril snaked up higher. Error's calves, his knee, his thigh... "Why, you could even argue that we were at our best with dear, clever Error overlooking our plans."

A sharp squeeze was given, so sudden and _just_ on the brink of creeping from discomfort into pain that neither Error nor Ink could prevent themselves from flinching.

When Ink glanced up to meet Error's eyes, he caught a glimpse of bright, gleaming green watching him. Nightmare's gaze was focused on Cross by the time he blinked. "Cross, on the other hand... well, he's a rather loyal second. Cold, too. Unlike our destroyer's hot temper, Cross handles disputes with such calm it's admirable. In a lot of ways, his command is similar to Error's. In others, it's different. Strong where dear Error," the tendril tightened further, _"is weak,_ yet weak where he is strong. They'd compliment each other, I thought."

Purple danced up and down Ink's leg. _Let him go, damnit!_

Almost as if reading his mind, the tendril loosened and slid away as Nightmare leaned forward to address them all more closely.

The hand that settled on In- on **Error's** thigh was just as bad as the tendril, if not worse.

"So, I decided: As of today, Error and Cross shall share the position of second." Error's shock was nearly hidden under his discomfort. Although Ink couldn't see it, he knew it was from the way the hand slid higher; high enough that it had to pushing Error's dress up. "Be glad, you three," he purred to Error's husbands and brother, "for you'll get to reap the..." ecto strained between Nightmare's fingers as he squeeze, "... _benefits_ of Error's new, _favorite_ position."

Silence settled over the table, until- 

"A-are you fucking kidding me...?!" Killer snarled. "You... you're letting the _traitor_ back on as second? After how many days?!" 

Nightmare flicked his gaze to him. "Are you wanting to be punished some more? Because that's where you're going if you continue to defy me." 

"Is it _defying_ to be _curious_ as to this... this _decision_ of yours?! I **know** I'm not the only one thinking it-!" 

"Perhaps, but you're the only one stupid enough to say it out loud," Nightmare's voice iced. Killer tensed slightly, but didn't dare look away.

"Night, he doesn't give a single fuck about us." Killer bravely continued, fingers curled tight around the arms of his chair as he struggled between deciding to remain seated or standing to add a little height to himself. Not that it would matter. Tall, short... no matter which you were, Nightmare's cold stare had a way of making you feel so incredibly small. "He left us, remember? Horror, me, Cross. He even-"

"Killer." came the king's quiet warning.

The dripping eyed Sans continued speaking. "He even left _you_ , Boss!"

 **"E n o u g h,"** Nightmare snarled, seductive sensuality gone as he pushed himself up from his seat and slammed his hands on the table. Uncaring of the wine glass that tipped on its side from the rough motion, he split his teeth into a wide, jagged grin and leaned in further, too far to tower over Killer but somehow managing to loom despite the distance. "He is here **n o w** and here is where he will remain, Killer. Instead of wasting my time with your useless contributions, either find something to occupy your mouth with or silence yourself. Or," Nightmare's grin twisted; crueler and darker as his tendrils lashed out behind him. "do your little boyfriend a favor by doing _both_. I'm sure Horror has something other than your own idiocy for you to choke on."

Killer's scowling teeth clicked shut. Seated at Ink's side, Horror shifted; surprising the artist with genuine anger and **fear**. _He... he's afraid for Killer,_ Ink realized, not entirely comfortable with the thought. Just like Ink worried for his husbands, Horror was worrying for Killer, and that...

It was frightening, really. Seeing himself in the one responsible for Reaper's agony... stars, he didn't want to relate to these people; didn't want to pity them and especially didn't want to **understand** them.

"Anything else left to say?" Nightmare growled. When Killer merely bowed his head without an answer, all physical traces of his anger vanished. Smile back in place, socket lidded sensually, Nightmare leaned back in place and swiped a glass of wine meant for Error to lift in toast. "Well, then. Cheers, everyone. To old stories renewed, and to a future I'm sure we're all excited to see."

"Cheers," Cross murmured, echoed quietly by everyone else in the room.

Everyone brought their glasses to their teeth, though Reaper tensed when Geno was following suit. Nightmare made a noise, eye harsh on the god. _Don't even dare,_ the glare said. So, helplessly, Reaper watched Geno from the corner of one socket as they sampled their drinks in favor of the toast. 

The liquid hit Geno's tongue and... 

_PJ and Goth looked between the adults before Goth squawked to get Reaper's attention. He reached for the god's face, grinning brightly at the hint of surprise there._

_"Daddy," he called, happily patting Reaper's cheeks once his father was in reach, "can I have juice?"_

_Although he shook his head as a negative, Reaper smiled and playfully nuzzled Goth's little cheek with his own. "You know that juice is a special treat, Gothy. Makes you all hyper, remember? Besides, you haven't finished your milk, hatchling." Cooing at his son's disappointed expression, Reaper softly pressed a kiss to his head to cheer him up._

_To his surprise, Goth crooned back, the tone higher from youth but just as musical as his own birdsong. "Daddy~" he sang, patting his cheeks again and finishing his word for father with a cheerful chirp._

A single tear formed in Geno’s socket as he stared at the plate in front of him. His glass to his teeth, he took another sip… 

_Reaper stared at him, awed. "Can you do that again, Gothy?"_

_"Again?" Head tilting, Goth blinked and hesitantly chirped. "Like dat?"_

More tears built in the glitch’s eye… 

_"Reaps, did you teach him that?" Geno questioned, brows raised in surprise. "I mean, I know he tried to mimic you in the past, but he's never managed something that, well, that good."_

_"I- no," shaking his head, Reaper grinned proudly and lifted Goth out of his seat. With a pretty, excited trill, he spun around with Goth in his arms. "Aren't you just an amazing little bird?! Honey, babe," he called out to his husbands, "this is-! It's not- you can't just teach someone to make these sounds! Skeletons or not, it's up to our magic to decide if we have the capability to make certain noises. I thought Goth took after you in the voice department, Gen, but-" he trilled loudly, too excited to keep the sound in, "those are **my** sounds!"_

_Goth, caught up in his father's excitement, mimicked his sounds perfectly. Unable to help himself, Reaper began to make a short assortment of noises, seeing if Goth could mimic them. Chirps, trills, coos, squawks, Goth was able to mimic them all. Brightening, Reaper snuggled Goth closer and grinned at his other husbands. Goth, though still excited from the activity, looked up at Reaper, "Daddy? Juice? Juuuuice?" he cooed as a question._

He squeezed his socket shut, silently begging the tears to stay hidden. 

_Reaper melted slightly. Geno grinned at the two, expression soft. "He's got ya wrapped around his lil finger, doesn't he, babe?"_

_The god started taking Goth to the fridge, smiling, "No idea what you mean."_

But they still fell…

Soft, Nightmare voiced his concerned at the sight of Geno's sorrow. "What's the matter, little Genocide?" he asked, a warning in his eye for those of Geno's household to not intervene as the king knew they wished. "I heard a rumor that you're hopeless when it comes to alcohol, so I thought my selection would do you well in place of wine. Do you not like it?"

Jaw trembling faintly, Geno brought the glass to his teeth yet again. If he drank, he wouldn't have to respond. 

But this was Nightmare, and silence just wouldn't do when it came to the king's questions.

"You're such a fragile thing, aren't you?" Nightmare sighed, sympathetic just as all the best actors were when performing for an audience. "It's why I thought a child's drink would suit you. Seeing as of how you're shedding tears like one, I'd say I was correct. But oh," he cooed, "don't cry. If you're not a fan of pineapple, maybe you'd like to try another?"

Everyone noticed when Ink, Reaper, and Error stiffened, though none of them knew _why_. Not even Cross understood the reason, unsure of just what the significance of the fruit was.

Unknowing that it was their children’s favorite flavor.

"There were quite a few flavors to choose from at the shop, you see. So many, in fact, that I needed the help of this darling little _angel_ to choose a few. You know what?" Eye wide as if having a realization, Nightmare peered at the glitch. "He looked quite a bit like you. Then again, maybe it's just my imagination. After all," he chuckled, "you don't have wings."

Geno's glass shattered as clattered to the ground.

_Goth...!_

_H-how close...?!_

Error clenched his fists under the table. The glitches around him multiplied slightly, against his will. _F-fuck...!_

Reaper felt pain rip through his shoulders as he clamped down _hard_ against the urge to let loose his wings. And because the instinct tore through the slow healing magic there. 

Geno trembled in his seat, not fully realizing he'd dropped the glass. Not fully _there_ , as he tried instead to think back to when he went shopping with the kids. Was it the rare occasions where he actually left the house...? Was it when his husbands had taken the kids out? Was it when Ink and Error were at Life's? 

_Gods_... Ink was drowning in the combined horror and fury and despair in his husbands. _H-he could have taken- c-could have **hurt-**_

Ink's panic rose. _He can't even get word out to Dream, or Respite or Spright. Can't even warn them to... to...!_

Nightmare inched his chair closer, smiling at the overflow of emotion from the four of them. "Well, then. We don't want this feast to go to waste, do we?"

As if Nightmare's words were the cue he was waiting for, Geno twisted over the armrest of his chair and vomited; panic, worry, fear, and the sick sensation of nausea all churning in his stomach. 

So much for the feast not going to waste.


	55. The Celebration, p4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a dance partner gets handsy. Unfortunately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger Warning** : non-con touching/fondling, reminders of past abuse/trauma

As the meal settled in the bones of each of those present, Nightmare nodded to Cross. The loyal second rose from his seat to duck into the kitchen for the moment- 

Music began to play in the throne room. 

"How about some dancing, to further the celebration?" Nightmare suggested. Of course, nobody would dare refuse. Not even Killer. The king rose from his seat as Cross made his way back into the room. He slowly circled the table. "Killer, Ink, go." 

Both skeletons froze and glanced at each other with barely restrained emotions. 

Nightmare angled his head slightly towards them, his ire starting to rise, but the two were quick to rise and walk to the floor. Albeit tensely and without touching each other yet. 

Sated, Nightmare glanced around again. "Cross, take End. Error, take your brother. Horror..." The broken-skulled skeleton glanced up. "Hmm.. be a dear and push the table aside so we have more room." 

Reaper glanced out at each of the pairs, then Horror. All of them were moving away, but Nightmare still stood there. "Dance with me, god." 

Slowly, Reaper followed the offered hand up to it's owner. Fear shook his SOUL. _I... can't disobey, but if I **do** obey....?!_

Growing impatient, Nightmare reached down and grabbed his hand. The king yanked the god to his feet, and strutted to the dancefloor. Once they stopped, Nightmare whirled around- 

Reaper was too shocked to stop, and ended up slamming into Nightmare's chest. 

Horror glanced up, just in time to see Ink freeze in Killer's arms, earning the artist a particularly harsh heel into his foot. "Pay _attention_ asshole," Killer snarled. "I want to dance with you about as much as I'd like to boil myself alive, but Boss' orders." 

"R-right..." Ink tried to focus back on his... _dance_ partner...

Just beneath the wordless song of the recorded instruments, Nightmare's quiet drawl could be heard. Attempting to dance without incident was difficult enough with the way Killer was insistent on spearing his feet with his heels, but avoiding the attempts were far less easier with most of Ink's attentions on the words he had to strain to hear.

"My, my, how forward of you." Nightmare chuckled, an arm sliding low around Reaper's waist to trap the god close against him. When Reaper straightened and attempted to step back, the finely dressed lord of the castle simply followed his retreat and pressed their chests together, the subtle curve of Nightmare's breast soft against Reaper's sternum. "Eager to get close, yet so unwilling to dance. Do you need guidance, god?"

Uncomfortable, Reaper shook his head and silently slid in his hands into place, knowing the distancing himself would only continue to prove impossible. Taking the leading role in an attempt to get Nightmare's arm off from around him, he settled a hand on the curve of the other's hip and hesitantly took up one of Nightmare's own with his other.

Pearly white teeth flashed him a devious smile as the arm around Reaper retreated. 

It should have settled on his shoulder.

Instead, Nightmare slid his hand much further than it needed to go and curled his fingers into the bandages hidden beneath his suit, phalanges sharp as they dug through the material and nearly straight into the fresh wound.

Somewhere behind them, Killer cursed loudly when Ink tripped and nearly sent them crashing to the floor.

In an attempt to cover for himself, Ink hissed, "If you'd stop trying to remove my _toes_ , then I wouldn't be _tripping!"_

"Not my fault you're a fucking beanpole with two left feet."

Ink stopped them, growling, _"I'm_ leading this dance. I'm taller-" 

"And dumber." 

Ink chuckled lowly. "You would know, since it takes an idiot to know an idiot." He tightened his grip on Killer's waist and hand, shuddering and just barely biting back a whimper at Nightmare's claws digging into his- into **Reaper's** shoulder, then slightly loosening his grip on Killer's waist at the sharp pains from the wounds- 

Killer snarled, "That fucking _hurts_ you fucker! Or did your damn goldfish memory help you forget our _earlier_ dance?!" 

A little ways away, Reaper felt condensation begin to form down his spine. He glanced over the king's shoulders where he knew the tendrils were. One wrong step or move or even _word_ , and those things could skewer him. _Or his husbands._ He returned his gaze to Nightmare and- 

_Was the king always so short...?_ Even with the heels, he was no taller than Error's grin. Nightmare was the shortest of his little gang. _Heh, no wonder he always arrives late-_

Reaper exhaled sharply as Nightmare's claws "massaged" the wound. "Focus on _me_ , godling." 

After the tables were pushed aside, Horror sat heavily in one of the chairs and watched Killer and Ink- _was the artist sweating...?_

Biting back a pained trill, Reaper smiled charmingly at the king pressed far too much up against him. "Godling is a term for chiiii-" he caught his tongue between his teeth, biting hard enough for the muscle to threaten to split before letting the magic retreat back inside his mouth.

Cyan stained fingers pulled free from his wound, smearing color against the dark of the god's suit as Nightmare glared at him coldly. Suddenly, their height difference seemed different; Nightmare appearing so much larger than Reaper knew he truly was.

"I'm no fool, _godling."_ Nightmare hissed, his phalanges leaving thin streaks of blue down Reaper's back as he moved to rest his hand on the god's hip. Before Reaper knew it, their roles were switched and he found himself being lead through a fast-paced waltz that seemed design to sent bolts of red-hot pain into his shoulder blade. "Do not think yourself beyond punishment should you dare correct me again."

In a quick move that had Reaper's head spinning, he was forced into a dip that put far more strain than he could handle on his wound. To help steady him when he wavered, tendrils slid around his waist and back.

When one pressed _firmly_ against the reopened cut, Reaper chirped in pain.

Horror's eye narrowed when Ink's next hidden insult to Killer came out high and sharp; _as if he were speaking through a yelp_. Something was definitely up with him. 

As the music came to an end, Horror grinned. Time to change partners.

_And experiment._

Nightmare guided Reaper to the brothers, being perhaps a little too obvious about the way he held the god's hand and cozied up to his arm. The king's eye never left Error when his reinstated second finally noticed. Letting go of Reaper's hand, he offered his hand to Error. "Shall we?" 

Once Cross had mentioned dancing, Error _knew_ the tentacle bastard was going to do this. He glanced to his brother and husband, who'd already taken each other's hands and shot him a nervous look, before taking Nightmare's hand with barely a word, and let the king lead him back out. 

At the end of the music, Killer and Ink were _more_ than happy to spring apart from each other, practically bristling. _Stars, Ink's- no **Reaper's** tongue hurt..._

_Why was it getting harder to keep everyone's pain straight...? Why was it all feeling like-?_

Horror stepped into Ink's space, grinning, "Care to dance?" Ink and Killer both blinked in surprise at him, though Killer looked almost... betrayed. "You can't refuse a dance, artist." 

_Fuck you_. Ink forced a smile, "Sure. Why not." _Stars, his face with the smile, his tongue with the words-_

Horror took Ink's left arm, pulling him towards the dance floor, watching as the residual pain presumably from Reaper's re-opened wound echoed through Ink, and the artist let loose a sharp breath.

Curious to see how this would go, the large skeleton with the forever wounded head took up Ink's hand and dropped his other onto the protector's waist. Although Ink was taller, Horror was far stockier than the other and he had a _purpose_ behind their dance that made control an important factor. With that in mind, he adjusted their bodies so that little contact was made between them.

Whatever reactions the artist had, few would be from Horror's actions.

Just as they settled into their places, the first notes of a slow tune began to play. It wasn't one Horror knew, but he wasn't one for music to begin with. But slow was good. Hopefully, it would a long one.

"Your...boyfriend?" Ink began, unsure of just _what_ the relationship between Horror and Killer was and therefore hesitant to address him as such. "He doesn't look too pleased with you for choosing to dance with me."

Horror shrugged. He could handle a few stab wounds. "Boss wants us making friends. Besides, I'd be more worried about Error. He and Night used to dance a lot like this, you know? Looks like they're cozying up over there, just like old times."

Ink tensed, but made a point of not glancing behind him at Error.

Grin twitching with a desire to lift higher into a smirk, Horror looked over the artist's shoulder, his overblown eyelight large enough that keeping both the artist and dancing 'couple' behind him was easy. Whatever games Night was playing weren't subtle, and he made sure to watch Ink's expression closely when he caught the movement of something disturbing the cloth of Error's coat.

Although Horror couldn't see, it was a hand causing Error's jacket to shift.

Tense, the destroyer tightened his grip on Nightmare's shoulder and summoned all of his strength not to stumble or shudder at the feel of a hand firmly tracing the curve of his ass. Unable to bring himself to meet the lord's gaze, he stared just a little too far left of Nightmare's head and tried to ignore it.

The hand dipped low, feeling out the flesh of his thighs before sliding back up. When it caught on fabric, the back of his dress was lifted so that the warm hand could palm at his barely covered cheeks; the cut of his underwear designed to show off more than Error wanted to in this moment.

"Isn't this familiar?" Nightmare murmured, phalanges worming under his underwear until only bare flesh was felt. They had yet to trail anywhere sensitive, but Error was terrified that would change before the song ended. "You were always my partner for these little events. Only... you never quite liked them, did you? Boring, you'd call them, so I found ways to _entertain you."_

Error shuddered, nearly tripping when those questing fingers began sliding down between his cheeks, then further yet. The angle required Nightmare to step closer, so he did, and Error froze when he felt the softness of a feminine chest replaced with flat, smooth flesh.

Near his pelvis, a terrible familiar pressure pressed against him.

"S-stop," he hissed, looking around in discrete panic. No one was looking, thankfully. 

The fingers dipped lower and his thighs pressed together, trapping the hand at the expense of holding it somewhere dangerous. "Do you remember, _lover?"_ Nightmare whispered, the green of his eye nearly black with want. "The way you once snuck under the table to service me during a feast? The time you shared my seat and took me into your warmth as the others ate, unaware?"

 _You made me play your fucking games!_ Tears pricked at Error's sockets. "N-Nightmare, _stop!"_ he begged, firm yet quiet, desperate to gain no attention.

With a bit of force, the fingers wormed higher and the destroyer jolted, a terrified keen building in the back of his throat. "Tell me," Nightmare purred, "do you remember taking my fingers on this very dance floor?" His voice dropped to a growl. "Do you want to be fucked by them again?"

And then, the fingers were gone alongside the firm pressure against Error. Switching forms effortlessly, Nightmare tugged Error's dress back into place and stepped away to bow at the waist; graceful, charming...

...and smug as he stared Error down. 

"Thank you for the dance," as he walked passed him, a tendril brushed the back of Error's neck, _"lover."_

Throughout their dance, Ink kept fidgeting. 

The pain from Killer's, Reaper's, and Geno's wounds. The unwarranted touches Error felt mingled with panic and fear. The firm grip Horror had on Ink's waist and hand, and the _curiosity_ that flowed through that touch. The simmering fury from Killer, who glared at the both of them. Even the casual touches between Cross and End as they danced. 

It felt like too much. It _was_ too much all at once. 

_How many people were at home...? Nine. Just like there are here. B-but-_ Ink flinched at the feel of a wandering hand on his ass, fingers. His horror and embarrassment grew, though Horror's hands themselves did not move. Even with the girth of the stockier skeleton, somehow, Ink wasn't pressed against him. 

"Somethin' the matter, artist?" 

"J-just thinking about how dancing and fighting are so similar." His voice shook, as the phantom fingers seemed to fiddle with his- _Error's_ -

Rage warred with fear at the invasive digits. 

Horror let Ink go at the end of the dance, watching him freeze up at the exact moment Error did when Nightmare brushed his tendril on his neck. And for a second, Ink's lights whited out. He blinked them away and half-bowed to Horror. "T-thanks for not murdering my feet," he spoke quickly and stepped away. 

Amused, Horror watched the artist retreat and head _straight_ for Error. _Could blame not having his dance with his husband_ , Horror's eye gleamed as it slid over to the other two husbands, _but we'll see about that..._

Just before Ink could reach his first, Cross stepped into the path the artist was all but bolting down in order to intercept him on his way to Error. "Ink." Cross murmured, something in voice making the artist still.

He didn't have time for a confrontation, though. Error's colors were darkening; fear and panic swirling together to form a chaotic storm that kept gathering grays and green, like the sky before a tornado unleashed hell across the land. It was all bad, but _that last touch made things worse_. Error was spiraling long before the dance ended, but whatever Nightmare did to his neck...

"Cross, move," he demanded, trying to step around the second.

When a cool hand slid around his wrist, Ink nearly broke the ex-guard's hands for daring to keep him away from Error. Symbols flashing red, he whipped around to snarl at Cross, pushed to the edge by the chaos in the room. His husbands, the nightmares, the king... it was too much. His nerves were shot, his husbands were either in pain or panickin-

His _husbands_ were panicking..?

A quick look around the room informed him that Horror was making his way not to Killer, but Geno.

 _Fuck_ , but he- Reaper was near. He would keep Geno safe while Ink-

"Ink." Cross said again, hand dropping his wrist to instead nudge his shoulder. "Go to Reaper and Geno. Nightmare wants Error and I to share a dance to celebrate our new shared position."

 _Fuck what Nightmare wants!_ "No, I-"

"Ink," A hint of a plea entered the other skeleton's voice, "go. You know he's watching."

The artist stared down at Cross and a crazy thought occurred to him. 

It would be easy. Too easy, to take out every single one of these fuckers- 

But Nightmare would still have Geno's SOUL hidden in some dark corner of this damned place. If it was even _in_ the castle. Ink grit his teeth, glancing again to Error, before making a beeline towards his husbands- 

Horror was already asking Geno to dance. 

And though he was in no position to threaten, Reaper still bore holes into Horror with his empty gaze. A silent warning to not hurt Geno. Horror waved him off, "Yeah, yeah, Boss already gave me the spiel." He held Geno's hand gently and guided them to the floor. 

Several feet away, Cross had Error's hands in his own and was starting a simple waltz with him. Nothing too crazy, hands in respectable places, albeit touching as little as was required for a dance, due to Error's growing haphephobia. Trying to distract himself from Error's chaotic storm and Geno's hovering fears, and Reaper's pain, Ink turned to his godly husband, murmuring lamely. "Dance...?" 

"Slow, please... my shoulder-" 

_"Believe me,"_ Ink whispered hoarsely, "I know..." he rested his hands on Reaper's hips as Reaper rested his uninjured arm around Ink's shoulders. Glancing down to him, Ink realized that... he couldn't remember ever dancing with his husbands. Well, besides weddings. Have... have they ever danced before...?

Upper back and shoulder blade a mess of sharp, radiating pain, Reaper was careful to move slow as he leaned in and let his head fall onto Ink's shoulder. "No," he murmured, voice tired and strained from the aches of his injury, "I... Gen and I would dance sometimes, but... I haven't had the pleasure of doing so with you or Ru. Until today."

 _This is our first dance then_ , Ink thought, feeling Reaper's exhaustion as his own and finding himself too drained to bother fretting over having spoken his thoughts out loud. Carefully, he slid his hands further back, wrapping his arms around Reaper's waist so that he was holding the god rather than simply just holding _onto_ him. "I wish this could be more special, Reapsy. You, Ge, Error... you deserve better."

"It's special enough, hon. It's... it's as perfect as it could be, just because you three are near."

Touched, Ink pressed a kiss to the side of Reaper's skull.

"So..." he heard a ways off, Horror's deep, gravelly voice cutting through the soft tune playing like a jagged knife slicing through delicate paper. "How come you won't take the jacket off? Dancing makes it hotter in here, and I can see you sweating, too."

Voice just barely a whisper, Ink asked, "Can I take your job, just for the next minute...?" 

Having head it too, Reaper murmured, "Would it really take you a whole minute...?" 

Ink sighed, "Probably less." 

Softly, Geno denied, "I don't want to. I'm comfortable." 

"Sure ya are. Is that why you're already staining the dress?" Geno shifted uncomfortably, wanting to move away, but Horror held him closer, blinking in surprise when he felt Geno's form against his own. "Damn, you've got some _weight_ to you." 

Embarrassment and a hint of panic tickled in Geno. "L-like you're one to t-talk!" 

"I'm a chef. Got to try a taste of every single dish I make," Horror grinned down at Geno. "Are you a chef? What's your favorite..." at Geno's widening, fearful socket, Horror finished, "...utensil?" 

_N-not knife...?_ The glitch's eye glanced to Killer as they danced in a circle. Horror chuckled, "Are ya wanting to dance with Kills? As I understand it, you two already had a... _knife_ little tango..." 

But Ink was already struggling to not fall into Geno's anxiety, and the hint of the words he was hearing set an ember of Ink's rage aflame. Enough for irritation to grow into anger, but not yet a true fury. As casually as he could, he glanced over to make sure his smallest husband was okay- 

Just to find Horror staring at him with a grin. One second, then two, until the forever injured one dropped his light back to Geno for the end of the song. "Thanks for the dance, doll," he bowed at the waist and meandered to Killer.

Not much had been brought to Ink’s attention on Error’s side, and when he glanced over, it was because Error was holding onto Cross’ sleeve with one hand and jacket pocket with the other. _When had they…?_

“Gen…” Reaper whispered to Ink, who nodded. 

“Check on him, I’ll check on Error.” 

They parted, giving each other a quick, albeit distracted, kiss. Still trying to keep up a cool pretense, though panic brewed within, Ink made his way over to Error and Cross- 

To be stopped by _Nightmare._

“Hmm, I never realized you actually gained some inches,” the king drawled lazily. “No matter, shall we?” He offered a hand. Ink hesitated, eyes flicking over Nightmare’s head to look at Error. It seemed like he and Cross were involved in deep conversation. Nightmare chuckled, “You seem to have a lot going on in your mind. Dance some of that away.” 

_Dammit… as if you give a shit-_ not that he could refuse. Ink took Nightmare’s hand and felt the negativity and pain within himself be leeched into the king. The next dance was a little more lively, and the king led it. 

“Do you know _how_ to dance, artist? You’ve been around at least since my brother and I. That ought to have been plenty of time for you to learn something, no?” 

Secretly, Ink loved dancing. Specifically either the slower dances that allowed for conversations, or dance _battles_ , with which both members stayed alive in the end. He and Dream… Ink could have _sworn_ they’ve danced, if not in celebration of a successfully repaired world, or simply because they wanted to. The thought of Dream sent a sharp pain through Ink, and he choked out an, “I know a thing or two.” 

“Is that so… You’ve been stumbling all over my dance floor all night,” his voice hardened, though sick amusement shone in his colors. “I figured I’d ask.” 

_No mistakes, no mistakes,_ Ink dropped his gaze to stare at his feet- momentarily forgetting the slits in the dress that exposed entirely too much leg. 

A tendril wrapped underneath Ink’s chin, the tip pushing into the bruised ink stain on his cheek just a little too hard. “My eyes? Are up here, artist.” 

Ink shut his sockets at the flash of anger. _No red, no red, no red…!_ He tried for a blank expression when he looked back to Nightmare. “The food was good.” 

“Hmph. But the dancing is _so_ much nicer, you know? You can learn….” Each button on Ink’s jacket was undone by the hand that had been at his waist. “…quite a bit from your dance partner.” One of his tendrils replaced the hand held in Ink’s, and another tendril wrapped itself around the artist’s waist, bringing him closer. A soft noise of protest escaped Ink’s mouth before he could stop it, but it was drowned by the now-free hands of the king drifting up firmly from over the green dress shirt to feel everything the artist had. 

Disgust, anger, and a touch of fear and panic grew stronger within Ink. 

“I considered giving you a dress,” the king admitted shamelessly. “I’d heard such _rumors_ about the pretty ecto of the artist. As if the world’s palette resided within his magic. Well, I couldn’t have my reinstated second _distracted_ , now could-?” Nightmare froze. 

_What… what the f-?_

Across the room, Ink could feel the love from his three husbands as they found a way to dance together. Reaper and Geno held hands while Error gripped the sleeves of their dress shirt and jacket. 

But Nightmare’s eye flashed up to Ink to see the artist staring steadily back with… fear in his eyes but love in his SOUL. 

_Gods it hurts- w-wait, it isn’t **mine** , it’s Nightmare-_ Ink trembled slightly. It was getting harder to keep everything in- 

Nightmare’s phalanges formed into claws that he dug into Ink’s chest. Fabric tore, ecto split, and for the second time that night, the king felt another’s blood on his hands. Ink doubled over slightly and tried to rip his hands away. The tendrils just tightened, nearly cracking Ink’s wrists in the process. 

_That… that emotion is still… that **love** fucking hurts-_

Angered, Nightmare dug his claws further into Ink’s chest. Ribs started to fracture, and the sharp pains Ink felt from the initial punctures skyrocketed until the world was glazed in purple. 

_I-it burns…!_ Ink shuddered. He felt the tendril under his chin cover his mouth. _Oh stars, it-_

He couldn’t remember where everyone’s pain and feelings ended and where his own began. It all felt like his own. Ink’s cheeks, Ink’s shoulder, Ink’s haphephobia, Ink’s beat-down, Ink’s chest punctures and fractures. Ink’s love for his husbands. Ink’s _pain_ from that love…! Ink’s anger at that pain- 

He shut it down quick. He… he needed it to stop. Everything was purple, even the being before him, who wouldn’t _let go…!_ “You don’t see yourself as one of us,” Nightmare leaned forward, murmuring practically in Ink’s chest. “You think you’re still a hero. A _protector_. Oh don’t worry, darlin’, you _are._ But you’re the Protector of the Nightmares now, not the multiverse or the AUs.” He slowly retrieved his limbs, letting the claws drag down to the waistband of Ink’s pants, before buttoning his jacket back up. _The… song ended…?_ “That’s better, isn’t it artist?” He glanced to the shirt and tsked. “Such a waste to have dark blood with a pretty ecto…” he smirked up at Ink.

"Is..." Ink's breath stuttered at the teasing pat given to his chest, just over the wounds. Swallowing, he blinked clarity into his swimming vision and attempted to speak again. "Is that all, Nightmare? I'd take to get more dancing in before the night is over."

Toying with the collar of Ink's shirt, Nightmare hummed thoughtfully and considered keeping the artist near just to toy with him further. As he thought over his options, his eye glanced around, taking note of where everyone was before his eyelight jumped to the side at the sight of movement behind Ink. 

"...There's one last thing, artist." he murmured, following the curve of Ink's collar with a fingertip before gripping the artist's tie and tugging it free from his vest. "Thank you, _Ink,_ for such a lovely dance."

Then, with a firm yank that choked Ink as it forced him down, Nightmare pressed their teeth together. 

And as they kissed, fireworks exploded in Ink's vision. No, not fireworks. 

Fire alone. Red. 

_Rage._

And it wasn't his own.

Pulling away, Nightmare ran his tongue across his teeth, his eye still on whoever stood behind him. "And thank you for the kiss as well, Inky. We'll have to do this again."

Frozen, Ink was unable to muster up a reply. Instead, he merely stood there like a fool as Nightmare playfully patted his bruised cheek before turning and making his way to the table for a drink. 

When the artist finally found it within himself to turn, Error met his eyes; gaze filled with a fire that threatened to burn them all.

Error stalked towards Ink, noticing how the other still hadn't moved, even if the fury from the reinstated destroyer could leave burns. Error slowed, caution in his eyes. "...I....I......In....." frustrated, Error straightened his spine and offered his shaking hand. 

_C-can't... I can't I-_ Ink dropped his gaze, watching a tear fall, then a second, though no noises escaped him. Error reached up and oh-so-gently wiped them away. 

"S-squid..." 

Softly, Ink murmured, "I'm fine..." He hesitated, reaching to wrap his arms around Error's waist though under his jacket. He reflected back to the phantom- Error pulled his arms in place and rested his own hands high on Ink's shoulders. "R-Ru, you don't have to force yourself-" 

"I'm not, with you," came his low reply. The red flickered deep within the destroyer, but pink still bloomed for Ink. 

The artist flinched. Just enough that Error shot him a concerned look. 

_Since when had Error's pink love looked so similar to the beginnings of purple pain...?_

The music that began with their dance was, thankfully, a slow one, so they swayed together. Ink let his sockets fall closed and just.. existed, here, in Error's arms. A soft smile graced his face. "Do you remember when we last danced...?" 

"Probably better than you do." 

Ink chuckled a little. "Probably..." he dropped his head slightly. "I remember being able to hide myself in your arms as we danced. It..." Ink rested his forehead on Error's, voice nearly breathless, "You've been my home since then." When he next spoke, his eyes were on his husband. "Are... you okay....?"

Error was far from okay.

Five years of freedom and yet the feel of Nightmare's hands on him had been so painfully familiar. _"Do you remember taking my fingers on this very dance floor,"_ Nightmare asked as he spewed filth and felt him up.

The terrible truth was that Error _did_ remember.

Nightmare's hand on his ass, the way it slid up his dress and searched out more... those questing fingers dug up far more than Error was comfortable having brought back to from the deep recesses of his mind. In this very room, Error had given himself away more times than he cared to count. Dressed as he was now, twirling around the pristine floors, he played Nightmare's lewder games with an eagerness that haunted him to this day.

Error once let his body be trained by those deadly hands and still it remembered the lessons taught.

Closing his eyes, Error pressed his face into his artist's neck and nuzzled close to hide. _Is this how Inky remembers feeling when he used to use me to hide...?_ He hoped it was. 

Because nestled in the arms of his first, tucked away beneath his chin, Error felt safe. Angry over the violation of his husband and disgusted by the warmth between his own legs, but safe.

 _You saved me,_ he doesn't say. Can't, really. Not yet. Not now. Instead, he presses his teeth to Ink's chin and whispers against the bone. "I love you, Ink." It wasn't answer to Ink's question, but it all Error wanted to say in that moment.

He shivered at his first's warm breath, but murmured back, "I love you too, Error..." _Stars... I love you so much... you and Reaper and Geno... the kids, the in-laws, Dream..._ Ink held him closer, ignoring the sharp throb of pain in his chest as Error willingly stepped closer to him. He wanted to protect his family and kids- for a moment, he wished he could split himself up and protect them all at once. 

For now, he'd protect his husbands as best he can. Trust in Dream to protect the rest of his family, wherever they were. His husbands were priority for the moment. But especially the one that seemed to be trying to leech Ink's warmth into himself. 

Too soon, the dance was over, but the night wasn't. 

They went through several more rotations, though it became obvious that the willing nightmares and the husbands didn't necessarily want to dance with each other. Endure reported to Cross at one point during one of their dances. Once Nightmare was done dancing with three of the four husbands, he shared a dance with Cross, then spent time sipping wine and... observing. 

Error and Ink, for the most part, stayed together too, and danced close to their other husbands in case the willing nightmares wanted to dance with them. Killer and Horror spent a whole dance with Killer subtly trying to stab Horror for ignoring him for so long. And Reaper held Geno to him as his smallest husband dozed standing up.

"How dull," Nightmare sighed, staring coldly at the glitch from his throne. He swished his wine, the number lost on him. "We're barely into the evening, yet you're already tired? Surely, you must be a bore. It makes me wonder just how it is you're managed to keep such exciting company; how you entertain them, because personality definitely isn't enough. Oh well," he shrugged, "a question to be answered another day." 

Everyone turned their attention to the king as he tapped his wine glass. "It has been quite the eventful evening," he purred, eyes lingering over each of the husbands, though skipping over Geno dismissively. Turning his attention to the willing nightmares, he continued, "Remember. Cross and Error are _both_ your seconds. You may be dismissed now." As the husbands glanced to each other, ready to leave, Nightmare smirked. "Ah. Cross? You're to collect Geno in the morning before the artist is to train the others." 

Cross dropped his gaze in a bow. "Yes, Boss."

"As for you three..." Again, Geno went overlooked as Nightmare turned his focus to the other three. "I do hope the new quarters you're being assigned pleases you. Due to Error's position, I'm allowing you the comforts of a larger room. Cross, you may take them there now."

"Understood." Cross murmured, bowing his head once in respect before turning to the husbands. "Come, your room awaits."


	56. TLC

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the celebration is finally over and the husbands get time to recover and relax.

Hot and sore for various reasons, both original pairs of husbands linked arms with their firsts and followed Cross out of the throne room. "Since when does being second mean you get a new room?" Error asked, wincing slightly as his sore feet ached in protest of every step he took.

Tired himself, Cross allowed himself a few liberties and shrugged off his jacket as he lead the four down a hall they had yet to travel. "Since Nightmare decided it did." Which was only a few hours ago and specific to Error. Folding his jacket over his arm, Cross reached up and worked on loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt just enough to let the cool air of the hall inside. "You should be glad he did. Repairs for your bathroom will take quite some time."

The sight of a sweat dampened shirt should have unpleasant, yet Cross somehow made it work. Perhaps it was the broad shoulders straining against the fine material, or the way the damp cloth clung to a strong back flexing with powerful muscles.

 _He really grew up, huh?_ Error thought, head resting against Ink's arm as he hugged it to his chest.

During his original, willing run as a nightmare, Cross had been young but, not as much as Killer and still much further from being considered a child. Still, he was silly. Clumsy and easily embarrassed, at least from what Error remembered. Those traits, though not quite childish, were endearing, in a way. All the years between them would be so much more noticeable when Cross was tripping over his own two feet in his eagerness to please.

Now, watching Cross' strong back as he lead them with his head held high, Error found the puppy-like Rookie he recalled much more difficult to find. In his place, there was a man. A confident general sure of himself and his own abilities. 

_It's kind of h-_

"Gen, honey, do you want me to carry you?" Ink asked, fussing over the smallest of their group when the glitch nearly walked into a wall in his tired state.

Geno shook his head, clinging tighter to Reaper's uninjured arm. Though the strain of clothes against his wound made it ache more. 

Error glanced up to Ink, muttering, "Why didn't you ask me...?" 

Ink smiled at him softly. _"Do_ you want to be carried, hon?" 

Pouting, Error glanced away. "...yes..." Feeling his SOUL soften at the child-like behavior Error was exhibiting, Ink stepped in front of him and crouched down. The destroyer was almost too eager to crawl onto Ink's back and snuggle in. Flashes of not-Ink's pain shot through him, though when he hefted his husband up and continued following the others, he remembered his chest wounds. 

_That fucker.... those are going to scar..._ Ink shook those thoughts out his head, smiling when Error murmured, "Guess who's taller now, fucker?" 

"Want me to drop you, asshole?" 

He clung tighter, mumbling, "Don't drop me..."

Chuckling, Ink patted the soft flesh beneath his hands and promised, "I won't drop you, Ruru."

Reaper glanced back at them with a fond smile, heart warmed by the sight of the usual prickly destroyer nuzzling his cheek against Ink's skull as he was carried. At the same time; however, he couldn't help the small flare up of jealousy. It wasn't anything terrible, though. He just...

Geno yawned and stumbled a bit, his sleepiness clashing horribly with the heels he still wore. Trying not to literally fall victim to his drowsiness, the glitch roughly shook his head in an attempt to wake himself up more, unwilling to put anymore weight on Reaper or risk jerking him along if he tripped just because he was a little tired. Reaper was injured enough as it was. Geno really didn't want to add to that.

Eyes soft, Reaper watched him shake his head yet again, wanting nothing more than to scoop his little husband up in his arms to carry him to bed like Ink was doing for Error.

It wouldn't have been a very long walk, anyways. After just two more turns, they entered a hallway that had Error lifting his head from Ink's skull with a look of realization on his face. "What the fuck, we're staying in _this_ hallway?" he grumbled, a little too tired to put much effort into his angry tone.

Cross didn't slow as he led them past a few doors. "Yeah," was all he said in response to Error's question as they passed a rust colored door. Behind it, a low moan in a familiar voice sounded. _Horror_ , Ink realized, picking up speed with a flustered expression at the heated colors seeping out through the door.

"We better not be staying in _his_ old room, Cross. No one bothered cleaning it out, so the damn place is probably full of dust."

A hint of humor could be heard in Cross' mutter of, "Not anymore."

When Error snorted, that amusement grew just a little stronger. Ink frowned, unsure of just what the two found funny. _Wait, didn't they used to have a member called-_

Cross came to a stop before a plain door. "Here. There's a bathroom attached to the room, so you shouldn't need to leave it for any reason. If you do, a small kitchen is straight down the hall. Just be careful," Cross specifically looked to Ink, "Killer and Horror are only a few doors down."

"You're right next door." Error noted, unsure of just how he felt about that.

"I am, but I won't be around all the time. Only whenever my assignments are completed."

Error hid his frown in Ink's neck while his first watched Cross a moment longer, lights flickering uncertainly. _What, are Killer and Horror going to start a fight with me?_ But Ink realized that any retaliation on his part and... he flicked his gaze to Geno, who had his socket closed and was leaning on Reaper. Ink forced a smile on his face as he looked back to Cross. "Thanks." 

Nodding, Cross glanced between Reaper and Geno. "There should already be clothes in the room for the four of you, including what Night wants Geno to wear tomorrow." He shifted his jacket and tie to the other arm and sighed. "As for the suits and dresses for you three, consider them... gifts. Most likely, he'll have some new clothes made for you next time, but..." Cross shrugged, "You saw how fast his mood changes. Goodnight." He walked the few steps further and disappeared into his room. 

Ink reached past his husbands and opened the door.

The expectations they individually held for what was in store for them behind the door all went unmet as a plain bedroom was revealed. A bed, a dresser... and not much else, really. There were too doors in the bedroom, but one was undoubtedly for the closet while the other most likely belonged to the bathroom they were already informed of.

Aside from those, the walls were plain; a blank, boring grey that paired with the cold hardwood floors to form an uninteresting combination. The room _was_ bigger, at least.

Bigger, but emptier. Colder, too. Without Error's belongings, there was no life in the four walls meant to house them.

Simultaneously, the husbands thought, _"I hate it."_

But a lifeless room was better than no room at all, so they entered without complaint and shut the door behind them for privacy. It didn't lock, but at least there wasn't a stab hole stabbed through the wood.

"I need help." Reaper and Error chorused, the god struggling with his jacket while the destroyer glared down at his heels once set on his feet. 

Already softly snoring from where he went to test out the bed, Geno looked like he would need help too.

Almost helplessly, Ink glanced between the three of them. He pecked Error's forehead, "Give me one minute, hon," and gently helped Reaper out of the vest, tie, and dress shirt to check on the bandages- 

_That fucker..._

Reaper bled through them. "Alright, Reaps, we're going to have to get that washed up in a bit. Can you handle your shoes?" With a confirming nod, Ink turned to Error, who had sat himself up on the bed, fiddling with the heels. Ink swatted his hands away. "Stop, you're going to break it..." He knelt in front of Error, gently taking one of his first's feet onto his knee and worked on loosening the heel until it came off. He switched sides and did the same for the other one. 

"Ink..." at the destroyer's soft voice, the protector looked up. Error looked... really serious about something. "Are you hurt?" 

Blinking, he faked a smile. "Hurt? I feel the pain from Geno and Reaper-" 

"That's not what I meant." Error leaned forward and pulled at Ink's vest. "You... I was almost certain your shirt was green, but it's looking duller now." 

"I-it could be the lighting in this room. Or from sweating while dancing." 

Error stared at him, not believing a word he was saying. He glanced to Reaper. "Can you dig out the clothes from the closet?" He slowly stood from the bed and grabbed Ink's hand tightly, dragging him to the bathroom. Once they were both inside, Error whirled to Ink and started unbuttoning his-

"H-hey!" Ink grabbed Error's hands. "I a-appreciate your enthusiasm, but I can-" 

"Let me see your chest, dammit," Error stared up at him with a stubborn clench in his jaw. "I'm not letting you hide your injuries from us."

"Like you're going to hide whatever the fuck happened between-" Ink stopped himself and glanced away. He took the pants and jacket and vest off first, hesitating with the dress shirt. He hadn't had a chance to look at it for himself and, if he were being honest, he didn't want an audience when he did so. But still, Ink unbuttoned his shirt, hissing in pain and feeling tears form when he had to _tug_ the fabric away from the wounds. Of course, they opened back up. 

Error froze, staring at the _deep_ marks in the center of Ink's chest that dragged down to his hips. Already, Ink's chest was starting to bruise around the mark, and the fresh inky blood flowed, following the lines of the cuts. On closer inspection, the mark closer to Ink's hips, where it was a little shallower, were already starting to close, but the punctures...?

Error growled slightly at how the punctures had fractured Ink's ribs. Watching his first's reaction, Ink let his ecto formation fade, which made the bones and ink and- Oh... 

"I'm going to need to re-ink these ones..." Ink murmured to Error.

Fingers twitching, Error carefully reached out and skimmed the very tops of his phalanges around one of the punctures. He didn't let himself get too close to where the broken bone was flushed with sickly color, but even the few inches he kept between his touch and the wounds had Ink flinching in pain. Quickly, he pulled his hand away.

"Let's...let's wrap them..." Error murmured, searching the cabinet and under the sink for bandages. Remarkably, there was a small first aid kit hidden under the sink. Like the last time they were offered supplies, the creams meant to fight of scarring were absent from it. 

Ink shook his head. "Ru, they'll close soon on their own."

"Idiot," Error hissed, tearing the roll of bandages open with his teeth while his free hand dug out disinfectant. "J-just... just let me do this. At the very least, those need to be cleaned out. Trust me, it'll hurt like a bitch of your bone heals over his sludge. It's-" _happened to me before._

Ink frowned a little, seeming to sense the words Error left unsaid. He slowly sat himself down on the floor, bracing himself against the tub and swinging his arms onto the inside of it. He hissed in pain again, but glanced up at Error and nodded, "Okay, Doctor Ru Ru." 

Error scoffed, "Idiot..." he repeated softly, kneeling down in front of him with the disinfectant. "This is gonna-" 

"Babe? Just do it." 

Error spared one more glance up to his artist's face before focusing on his chest and cleaning it out. Ink tightened his grip on the tub and shut his eyes against the splatter of pain and burning sensations deep within the bones. At one point, he braced himself with one foot while the other one shook with his effort to not cry out. Even with his eyes closed, all he could see was various shades of purple, still mingling in from his husbands, and now from himself.

When tile began cracking under the pressure of Ink's foot, quiet murmuring started to fill the heavy silence of the bathroom. At first, Ink couldn't quite make out the words with the intense ringing in his nonexistent ears from the pain. As time went on; however, the soft tone eventually broke through the cloud of purple with the concerned tinged pink surrounding the sentences.

Slowly, Ink began to listen, "I...I think it was your stupid smile."

_W-what?_

Eyes focused on one of the deeper gouges he was cleaning, Error continued speaking with a furrowed brow; eyes sharp with the focus he was putting into cleaning Ink's wounds, but voice distant. Nostalgic. "Yeah... it was... it was definitely your stupid smile. You look like such an idiot when you grin but..." replacing his blackened cotton ball with a clean swab, the destroyer carefully prodded at the wounds. "...it's a nice smile. I... I wasn't used to nice. Not back then. I thought you were just making fun of me whenever you looked at me with one but I... it made me happy, I think." Quieter, "It scared me, too."

_Oh, Ru..._

Much quicker than Error wanted, the swab turned black. With a sigh, he replaced that one as well and dipped it in the disinfectant. "Smiles... I could count the people who smiled at me for a good reason on one hand and still have four fingers left over. Here, kind expressions aren't _good_ , Inky. If Nightmare smiles, it... i-it's bad. Same with Killer, and Horror. No matter what their moods, no matter how much in their good graces you are, there's always _something_ you need to look out for when they're grinning at you. Most of the time, I was sure you were going to tear my head off whenever you smiled at me like _that."_

Slowly, the tension around Ink's eyes faded as he went from clenching them shut to simply keeping them closed. The pain wasn't any less intense, but... he was invested. Whatever tale or nonsense Error was spouting, it distracted him. _Captivated_ him.

"And then, you- we-!" Embarrassment. Flustered colors that bled into love and faded hints of arousal that just needed a push to spark back to life. "You offered and I... fuck, you _smiled_ when you did and I _still_ thought you were going to tear me to pieces but I... I wanted to try. With you. So we-" wiping his stained hands on his dress, Error grabbed for the bandages and carefully began to unroll them around Ink's ribcage. "...You smiled the entire time. And it- I... I liked it. The...t-the sex, and your stupid idiot's smile...a-and... and _you._ Maybe. Actually, no. Liking _you_ came later, but I... it was that smile, Inky."

Error's words stilled when he had to nudge a few ribs in place, but when Ink offered no comment beyond gritted teeth and heavy, pained breathing, he slowly started up again.

"Your stupid, happy smile is what I think started me down that path. The... the one to loving you, I mean."

Ink's heart _jolted_ in his chest.

"It's never changed, you know?" Error whispered, carefully using the last of the wrap to close things off with a small bow. "After all these years, you still smile the same. I..."

 _Error..._ Ink thought, heart pounding as it overflowed with pink.

"I'm glad."

Ink slowly brought his arms in front of him and opened his sockets. His chest wasn't bleeding anymore, though a dull throbbing laced the wounds when he moved. Distantly, he knew that the cracks and punctures shouldn't be a problem in a few hours, so long as nobody messed with the wounds, but that wasn't where his thoughts truly lie. He raised his lights to meet Error's with a hesitantly open expression. Ink expected him to become flustered, maybe snap at Ink to forget it, but... he didn't. 

His husband looked back with an admittedly guarded expression, but sincerity in his gaze. 

He studied Ink's expression, and the tears coming down in a slightly different color than before, before leaning closer and taking his hand. The touch made Ink smile a little, though it wavered at the edges. "R-Ru...." _I'm scared of being here. I'm scared of you three being here. I'm scared it's going to take away the smile you love so much from me. I'm scared we won't make it back home, and I'm scared of these flashes-_ "I love you m-more..."

Lacing their fingers together, Error tried for a smile. Before Ink, the expression would have felt unnatural. There was no teasing hint or victory to ease the expression across his face. No cruel enjoyment, or any of the other terrible reasons his smile used to stretch because of. 

There was just love. An honest, heartwarming love that came to him so easily these days.

"I love you most," he whispered, "my stupid idiot."

Wetly, Ink laughed. It hurt, but he could suffer the pain if it meant reveling in the love of his first. "Come on, Ru. Help me up so we can help Reaps and Gen with their clothes."

"Or... just a thought, you take a damn break and let me help them." 

_White walls, white tub, white toilet, white towels, white sink-_

Ink tightened his grip on their hands, murmuring, "I d-don't want to be alone..." 

Error slowly nodded, "Yeah... okay." 

Together, they got Ink to his feet, with more pained huffs on the artist's end. "I hope Reaps found the clothes." 

"Probably," Error opened the door, pulling Ink through after himself by his hand. 

Reaper glanced up, doing a double-take at Ink's chest before trilling with distress. _"Stars_ , Ink!" He walked closer and peered at the bandages. "Wh-when did that happen...?!" 

"With the same partner that fucked up your shoulder more..." came the tired reply. "Speaking of, let me take a look at it...?" 

Error shot Ink a look. "No, you need to sit down." 

The artist glanced to Geno, who still had his dress and Reaper's jacket on, but no heels. "We need to wake him up and get him into his night gear. And Reaps needs his shoulder bandages re-done. And you still haven't changed clothes at all!" Ink glanced at Error and gasped. "RU! You wiped my blood on your dress?!" 

A dark look entered the destroyer's sockets. "I **do not** wear dresses."

Which was a shame given how lovely Error looked in his ruined dress. White wasn't a color Ink saw him wear often, but it fit him surprisingly well and stood out against the darker hue of the destroyer's slightly glowing flesh. "You should wear them more." Ink wanted to say.

The murkiness of the sickly hues behind Error's statement kept him silent.

Whatever reasons Error had, Ink was positive they weren't kind ones. "Ru, your dress is easier to change out of so why don't you help Reap's out of his clothes before changing? I'll wake Geno."

Reaper frowned worriedly, "I...I tried. We all had a long day today, but I think the events from this morning caught up to him. He won't wake up for more than a few seconds. Still, you can try?"

Ink turned to Reaper, gaze blank as he tried to recall the morning's events. Once he did, he dropped his gaze again. "...yeah, I can try..." he made his way over to Geno and gently nudged him. 

Error observed Reaper's outfit for a moment. "You already kicked the shoes off?" 

"Of course..." 

The destroyer had to refrain from slapping himself across the forehead. Of all the moments Reaper was around, Error only ever saw him wear shoes... _never_. Reaps never wore shoes. Even at his own wedding, he was barefoot, though he wore the nicest suit- He shook his head and glanced up to him. "Are you okay with me...?" he motioned vaguely to Reaper's shirt and pants. 

"I think if I tried to unbutton these with one hand, I'd get too frustrated and tear them." 

"Okay..." Error shoved his memories aside and reached for Reaper. 

Geno mumbled, "Five more..." 

Chuckling, Ink said, "Give me five minutes and you can go back to sleep, okay, hon?" 

The glitch cracked an eye open and looked at him. He sighed, sitting up slightly.

"Can't I just sleep in this...?" he mumbled, sleepy tone hiking up into a complaining whine. It was cooler in here than the throne room had been by the time they were dismissed. With all the dancing, the air warmed unpleasantly until all those unfortunate enough to wear suits began to sweat. With Reaper's jacket, Geno was one of those unlucky souls, but he wouldn't mind staying in it now... It was warm, now. Comfortably so... 

Watching Geno's socket flutter before eventually falling shut, Ink chuckled softly and gently shook him by the shoulder. "Sweetheart, you need to change." he murmured, undoing the buttons of the god's jacket and sliding it off Geno's shoulders.

Looking up at Geno as Error worked on opening his shirt and undoing his pants, Reaper smiled fondly. "I told you so, Inky." he chuckled, wincing slightly as the destroyer carefully peeled his shirt away from his wound. "G-Gen? You wanna at least _try_ to make things easier for Ink?"

Sleepily, the glitched blinked open his eye again. "Hm...?" Yawning, he glanced between Reaper and Ink, only to focus on the dark jacket the protector held. Realizing he was slightly disrobed, Geno flushed and crossed an arm over his chest, embarrassed by the clinging fabric only made all the more transparent by sweat.

Unwillingly, Horror's comment from earlier drifted through his head and he slid an arm around his stomach, too.

Ink blinked and sat down by him. Momentarily, he forgot that he wore only his underwear and the bandages on his ribs as he reached and gently rested his hand on Geno's shoulder. "Ge..." his voice was soft with love. "Honey, you don't have to be self-conscious with us. We love you. _All_ of you, okay...?" _And the moment we're out of here, I'm gonna have to clear my schedule **just** hurt every one of these assholes that made you feel less than you are._ "If you want more privacy, the bathroom is right there, but the night clothes are going to be more comfortable than the dress, okay...? And there's a shower in there if you want to use it."

Wounded cheeks flushed in embarrassment, Geno shook his head. "N-no, I'm fine..." He wasn't sure when he'd next be offered a shower, but he was even less sure of just when the next time he would be allowed to see his brother and husbands would be. A few days? A week? Not until their deal came to an end?

"...Do I smell?" he asked hesitantly.

Ink shook his head, smiling. "You're fine, honey. A change of clothes and you'll be all good to go."

 _I don't want to **go**..._ Nodding, the glitch crawled off of the bed and turned his back to Ink so that his tallest husband could unzip his dress. Slackened, the material slid forward and was only helped along as he abruptly sent his ecto away, the curves the fabric clung to disappearing without a sound and causing the dress to drop tp the floor. Shivering at the chill of the room, Geno stepped out of the crumpled pile of dress and crossed his arms over his scarred ribcage. "My clothes...?"

Turning to the clothing set out by Reaper, Ink paused just as long as he needed to hand Error the god's clothing before grabbing what he assumed was meant for Geno. Holding out before him, he watched as cloth unraveled to reveal a long nightmare.

 _Yeah, definitely Geno's,_ he thought, anger coming in quick and fading even faster as his smaller husband's kitten-like yawn. 

Accepting the nightgown with a mumbled thanks, Geno slid it on over his head and promptly tipped forward until he faceplanted into the bed. "Hm..."

Chuckling at the sight, Ink shook his head fondly and turned to check on his other two husbands. A loose shirt was now being worn by Reaper, but- he snorted.

"Is now really the time?" Ink teased, catching Error off guard from where he was kneeling before the god.

Error gave him a bland expression. "...Jealous?" 

Ink choked, but after a moment to consider, he grinned sheepishly, "Maybe a little?" 

His first snorted, rolling his sockets and returning his attention back to Reaper to make sure his husband's pants were tied up. He rose and eyed Ink up and down. "Are you trying to sleep without the night clothes?" 

".....maybe....?" 

"No...?" Error threw Ink's clothes at him. "We're all going to behave and wear the damned clothes." 

Ink pouted, "No fun..." Turning serious for a moment, he looked to Error. "Need help with the dress...?" 

"I got it."

At Ink's doubtful expression, Error twitched and made a point of reaching back. With a bit of angling and awkward bending, he caught the very end of the zipper with his fingers tips and pulled it down just enough to get a better grip and work the rest of the dress open. 

Without bothering to remove his coat, Error let the dress drop to the floor and kicked it far, far away from himself. Shooting Ink and Reaper a look at the simultaneous catcalls, he let his ecto fade and walked over to grab his own clothes. A t-shirt, shorts... acceptable, he supposed.

"Stop stalling and get dressed, Ink." he grumped, finally removing the familiar jacket around himself and sliding into the provided clothing. "Are you and Reaps going to be okay with your wounds? I can make hammocks for Geno and I if you two need more space on the bed."

The bed which was again clearly meant to barely fit _three._

"Can..." Ink frowned, looking to Geno. He wanted to cuddle his shortest husband but... yeah that would be too much. And with Reaper being in such close proximity...? "Can I have the hammock?" He asked as he pulled on the coat Error shed and tying the sash around his waist. _Hmmm cozy..._ he snuggled into it slightly more. 

"I should be okay. I'm used to sleeping on my side or front," Reaper smiled hesitantly at them. 

Error frowned at the both of them, narrowing his gaze at Ink but ultimately gave in. He knew his first wasn't going to change, and he wasn't in the mood to fight with him. Especially since he looked so happy, wrapped up in something that probably smelled like the destroyer. "If you're sure, Reaps. We can let you and Gen have the bed so you have more space for your shoulder."

Reaper smiled softly at Geno, then turned that smile onto Error. "Thank you." 

"Ru, what about you?" 

"Double hammock. You and I are sharing." But he shot a worried glance to Ink. _Are you okay with that...?_

Ink nodded, though sleep was making his eyes drift closed. "Sounds good for me."

With his own exhaustion attempting to pull his sockets closed, Error's work with his strings came out messier than usual, but still produced a single, large hammock that would last him and Ink the night. Tomorrow, he would go back and make it a bit more stable. Cleaner, too. 

_If I remember, that is,_ he thought, jaw cracking with the force of his yawn. "Get in, Ink Idiot. I'll grab us a-"

Reaper handed him one of the two blankets offered to them. "Sleep tight, you two," he said, pressing a kiss to both their smiles. "Love you, Inky. You too, Ru."

Yellow warmed Error's cheeks. "Love you too, Reaps. Be careful when you sleep."

"Love you, Reaper," Ink echoed from his place in the threaded hammock. Voice softening, he whispered, "I love you, too, Geno." though he knew the glitch was too deep into sleep to respond. 

Or so he thought.

Once Error and Ink were situated next to each other and Reaper was spread out on his stomach at Geno's side, a single socket blinked open. Too tired to keep it so, the eye shut as Geno sleepily yet carefully snuggled into Reaper's warmth. "Love you guys..." he mumbled, drifting off even as he spoke the words.

Together, the four slept.


	57. When A Nightmare Becomes Reality(?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the authors are sorry and **strongly** advise you pay attention to the tags and the in-chapter warning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger Warnings** : Harmful, sexual language, psychological torment, implied rape. 
> 
> **In addition to the warnings...** We understand that the themes that appear during Simple can be difficult to read and/or handle and take no offense if readers choose to skip this chapter. That being said, for those it may comfort: There is no explicit rape shown in this chapter. What this chapter **does** contain is the aftermath a character heavily implied to have been assaulted is experiencing. This aftermath includes: **Distress, nudity, panic, fear, and a case of vomit**. If any of this is considered to distressing, please know that we take no offense to anyone choosing to wait until the next chapter to continue reading.

The morning didn't last long enough. It was too quick before Geno was escorted back into whatever hole the King of the castle wanted him in. Unfortunately, the next week completely dragged. It was made harder by Reaper's injured shoulder, and Ink's surprisingly slow-healing chest. 

But soon, it was the end of the second week, and somehow, none of the husbands had displeased the king. How could they with how absolutely... _mundane_ their "missions" were? 

Having been on _actual_ missions, Error found this... frustrating. What's the big plan? What's the point of waiting? Nightmare hadn't even requested Error's presence without Cross to be there as well, and, miraculously, the king hadn't touched Error since the... celebratory dinner. 

After being dismissed from one such meeting, Error followed Cross until he heard the door shut. "Cross," Error bit out. 

Continuing to walk, the other merely uttered a grunt that sounded vaguely like, "What?"

Scowling at the lack of true attention turned his way, Error quickened his steps so that he walked shoulder to shoulder with Cross. "What the hell is going on around here, damnit?"

"You were right there during the meeting, Error. What's going on? Well, for today... the floors need mopping, the kitchen needs to be cleaned, one of the bathrooms is-"

With a burst of speed, Error bypassed his fellow second and spun on his heels so that he blocked Cross' path. When the white and black clad skeleton attempted to step around him, he cut him off again.

"That's not what I meant and you know it." Error growled, crossing his arms and straightening his back to look the other in the eye. They were the same height, but confidence was in the way you stood; the manner that you presented yourself to others. "Chores? Having us scrub dishes and broom? Nightmare wanted us for a reason. I know damn well it wasn't because he was in need of a few maids."

"You know how the boss is, Error." Cross sighed, once again attempting to move around him. Failing that, he frowned. "Error, move. Whatever answers you want? I don't have them."

"You really expect me to believe that?"

"I expect you to do your work and be pleased that it has yet to be anything strenuous. This is _Nightmare_ , Error. Surely a lack of his games is better than being thrown into the middle of one? Just... be glad. Be obedient, too. Do your easy work, don't complain, and _move_ so _I_ can attend to the rest of _my_ duties."

Surprisingly, Error moved to the side to allow him to continue his way down the hall. "...You know you're wrong, right?"

Cross didn't stop walking. "About...?"

"Your statement about Nightmare's games? C'mon, Cross. You and I _both_ know there's never a lack of them. In this hellhole, the game never ends. My family and I have been the center of them since we got here."

 _And I've playing the game since you **left me** here._ Cross thought, allowing himself a brief moment of old bitterness and spite. "Return to your room, Error. I have work to do."

With a scoff, the destroyer split down another hall and stomped away. Back turned, Error missed the way Cross' shoulders slumped as if weighed by the weight of the world before the ex guard teleported himself straight to the door of his charge.

He took a breath to steel himself against whatever new and difficult questions the smallest husband might have for him. When it came to distracting Geno from his fear of the darkness around them, questions were usually the easiest route to go. Simple inquiries were the least difficult to answer, and yet the rarest types of questions Geno would toss his way. His favorite color, his favorite food... those weren't the types of things the glitch really wanted to know, so the questions always eventually took a turn down the more difficult route. He would answer what he could, but...

 _I really can't afford to be so lenient today._ Not when he was nearly caught entertaining Geno just the other day.

With his near-miss in mind, Cross wiped his expression blank and announced himself with three knocks before entering. Unsurprisingly, he was met with total darkness./p>

For a few days now, the bulb hidden in the ceiling of the room kept flickering. Just yesterday, it died out completely, much to Geno's extreme distress, and yet, with strict orders to leave it be, the glitch was forced to spend the remainder of last night in complete darkness with only his own panic for company. _Come on, Nightmare..._ Cruelty was the king's favorite brand of hospitality, but this? This was downright inhumane. As much Nightmare enjoyed toying with Geno's phobia, Cross had hoped the light would be repaired by now, if only because Nightmare didn't want his new favorite toy too shaken up. Clearly, that small bit of hope was pointless.

When the door slid shut behind him, the darkness only grew deeper.

The thick shadow all around him made walking into the void of the glitch's cold, so-called room feel a lot like being handed a puzzle after you were blindfolded. With his eyes slow to adjust to the pitch black shadow all around him, Cross was forced to rely on his other senses in order to seek out the undoubtedly distressed prisoner. With this much darkness for this long, he would need to spend time he wasn't sure he had calming the other, smaller skeleton. Unfortunately, past experience meant that he knew this would be no easy task. Long hours in the dark made Geno much harder to talk down from the edge of pure terror, so he found have to find his way through the dark quickly.

 _His crying helps..._ It was a bit of a cruel thing to be thankful for, but the sound of Geno's sobs definitely made his current task easier. It gave him a clear sound to follow, especially with the volume of the other's cries, though Cross couldn't help but think that the fact Geno was crying so loudly was a little strange.

It didn't always work out for him, but Geno proved himself the type to go to great lengths in order to hide the fact that he was crying. Biting his tongue, his sleeve... hiding his face in his knees or clamping his hands over his mouth... More than once, Cross stumbled upon the sight of Geno trying out various methods to keep the sound of his crying to himself. Being caught crying embarrassed the glitch, Cross assumed. The first time he entered during a fit of a tears, the smaller skeleton flushed red and couldn't bring himself to meet his gaze for the duration of Cross' guarding duty that day. Every other time the glitch was caught crying, he'd react just the same; clamming up and hiding his flushed face in mortification. It was... kind of painful to watch, but not as much as the moments where defeat and resignation left Geno uncaring of being seen sobbing. Those moments... they were harsher. Sadder, if only because they lacked the glitch's usual fire.

Once, during one such moment of saddened defeat, Cross had the misfortune of bearing witness to Nightmare's reaction to the small captive's tears. 

He didn't blame the glitch for redoubling his efforts in keeping his sadness hidden after that. Not with what Geno went through.

_When Error was second, Killer liked to snicker behind his back that the destroyer was much like an obedient dog. A bitch, Killer would sneer, dropping profanities and snide comments that Error was practically panting for Nightmare's cock with the way the second always strove to please their boss_

_"He probably sucks him off just to get a few more brownie points." Horror once added, a gleam in his eye that, to this day, Cross couldn't quite name. Was it sick yet ignorant humor, or a look of knowing in that socket?_

_After Error's abandonment and Cross's promotion, it was his back those comments were spoken behind once he took his old friend's place in the spotlight that painted him green in the others' eyes. Used to their behavior, he simply brushed off whatever pieces of cruel conversation he caught from the two._

_At the moment though, Cross found himself agreeing with Killer's old favored insult. A bitch. A **dog.** That's what Cross felt like as he obediently stood guard at the door, **within** the glitch's room rather than outside while Nightmare circled the small skeleton as predator would prey._

_"Why are you crying?" Nightmare asked softly, eye warm and gentle in a practiced expression of loving concern. Despite the wrong hue of magic and the thick, wet sludge, the softened look had Nightmare looking unnervingly like Dream. "I came here so we could enjoy some quality time together, Genocide. I expected a smile. **Thankfulness** , instead of tears. Is my company not good enough? Are you unappreciative of my goodwill?"_

_Arms wrapped around himself in place of his husbands' protective holds, Geno stuttered through a denial. "I...I'm not u-unthankful, N-Nightmar-"_

_"Uh-uh, Ge-no-cide~ call me by the correct name."_

_Fading bruises all around his face and skull kept the glitch's obedience. "...N-Nighty..."_

_Smile wider, the king of the castle stepped closer and softly cupped Geno's face. "Good. Now, prove it. No more tears, Geno."_

_Thumbs stroked over the lines on the glitch's cheek. Some of the smaller, thinner cuts were nearly healed, but the touch broke off the persistent scabbing of the deeper wounds, causing small trails of blood to invade the river of tears on Geno's face._

_Voice sickly sweet, Nightmare cooed, "Although, you **do** look cute when you cry. Just like your brother, actually."_

_Slowly, he leaned in as if to kiss a droplet of watery blood away._

_At the last minute, a tongue ran across Geno's cheek, smearing blood and tears as the king sampled his sorrow._

_"Mmm," Nightmare hummed, licking his teeth, "you taste like him too."_

Cross definitely didn't blame Geno for trying to hide his tears after that.

This time; however, there were no stifled, cut off noises to indicate bitten back sounds of upset or the subtle clue of soft sniffling. Cross didn't need to guess at Geno's sorrow, because he could hear it.

Had the room not been tucked away in a forbidden hall, the entire castle might have echoed with the volume of Geno's loud, distressed wails.

"Geno?" he murmured, his next step small and hesitant. Cautious as he squinted hard to attempt seeing through the dark. Seriously, why wasn't the damn light fixed? He didn't have the switch on him for the backup lights, so he couldn't even do anything about the darkness. "Geno, where are you? I don't want to risk stepping on you-"

"G-go away!" Geno shouted, interrupting him where Cross expected stubborn, embarrassed silence. "G-go...go a-away! Go a-away, go away, g-go away!"

Stilling, Cross frowned. "...You know I can't." And why would Geno want him to? Even if Geno himself never said so, he knew his presence helped with the other's fear.

"Go! _G-go_ , damnit!"

"Ge-"

A gag tore Geno's next attempt at a sentence to pieces. Wet and raw, the sound was followed by a foul scent and the disgustingly slick sound of liquid hitting the floor. Instinctively, Cross jumped back even though he was unsure of just how close to the vomit he was. When more gagging and liquid followed, he took a few more steps back. _Fuck, is he sick?_ With little food and nothing to guard Geno from the chill of the room, Cross wouldn't be surprised if that was the case.

"Geno, where are you? I'm going to take you to the infirmary." He wasn't ordered to, but Cross' position allowed him certain liberties. Besides, he was sure Nightmare wouldn't want one of his game pieces in such a poor state. Well, physically at least.

Choking on bile and tears, Geno weakly begged, "P-please g-go a...a-away. P-Plea...p-please...p-p-pl-" full words dissolving into broken, stuttering fragments, the glitch let his voice die off and simply broke down into harder sobs.

Hoping nothing foul ruined his shoes, the white and black clad skeleton slowly made his way forward. "I'm coming closer." _I think?_

Geno was halfway through a cry of "No, don't-" before the light Cross believed dead flickered to life.

The noise Geno made when the room was illuminated was almost animalistic. Technically a scream, the sound was somehow so much _more_ than such a simple descriptor could manage to express. It was... a cry? A screech? A sob?

Whatever you would call it, it was a painful sound to hear; reminiscent of the scream from a mother as she lost a child, the flat line of a hospital's monitor... Geno's sound was every terrible noise from gunshots to car crashes forced out through the lungs of a sobbing, broken man. It was nothing one would have expected from someone who craved light so deeply.

Eerily enough, Cross was sure he sounded much the same the day he lost everything.

Heartbreaking, tormented cry breaking off into a sobbed mantra of "don't look", Geno pressed himself further into the corner of the room he was curled up in and desperately tried to hide himself behind what looked to be small, torn fragments cloth in his arms. _What...? What are...?_

Upon closer inspection, Cross realized the bits of fabric were from the over-sized shirt Geno was wearing last night. Why was it-

A moment passed.

And the full scene before him registered.

Tears running down his bloodied, bruised face, Geno stared up at him in humiliated terror; red, **nude** flesh failing to be kept from his eyes despite the trembling glitch's best efforts. No matter how he angled himself or how many shreds of cloth he gathered, the bruising, bitten flesh couldn't be hidden.

At Cross' dumbfounded staring, Geno shook harder. "G-g-g...." he couldn't finish. Tears falling from his eye, he curled up tighter and gave a weak attempt at flashing his dual tone magic at Cross. All he managed in his distress was a pathetic wisp of color in his socket. "P...p-ple...p-pl-" Still, he couldn't finish.

As if possessed, Cross stepped forward, nearly calling out the wrong name when an attempt at calming the glitch. "E- _Geno_ , you- w-what-"

But the lack of distance had Geno scrambling for an escape that simply wasn't possible. Hyperventilating when he realized he couldn't push himself any further from Cross, the glitch tried flaring his magic again. Nothing. "G-g...g-go!" Geno choked, desperately twisting around to turn his back to Cross, breast and sex better hidden at the cost of putting himself in a more vulnerable position and revealing his ass. 

Cross stumbled at the new sight revealed to him; long, curving bruises darkening the ecto of Geno's back as if curving lines were tattooed into his flesh. They were snake-like, almost.

They were shaped like tendrils.

Eyes as focused on Geno as they were, Cross missed the puddle before his feet until he stepped in it with a terribly slick noise. _The vomit_ , he guessed, reeling too hard to feel disgust as he almost absentmindedly looked down.

The sight of thick, familiar sludge mixed in with the expelled liquid had his own nausea surging upwards. All that kept it down was the sheer force of will.

"G...g-go..." Geno begged, doing all he could to hide away. "P...p-pl...p....j-jus-" Hearing Cross' footsteps end just behind him, the small glitch whimpered. "...D-do...d-d-don't l...l-look..." _Please, please don't look at me._

A thick coat dropped over his form, effectively covering him. A faint scent of bleach with an equally faint scent of a... an art store...? B-but... there was something else mingled in with the fabric-

_....E-Error...?_

It was reminiscent of the first time Geno had met Error. The sweat and distinct detergent the destroyer used in his clothes when he was a nightmare. But this coat... the bleach, and detergent, and art store smell- 

Geno gripped it tight around him, sobbing harder. _It isn't Nightmare... it isn't Nightmare... I-it's Cross... this is Cross' scent..._

The presence behind Geno didn't fade, but the looming shadow over him shrunk as Cross took a few steps back and crouched. Uncaring of the vomit on his shoes or the foul scent of the stale room's air, he made himself as small as he could manage and cautiously spoke out in a low, soothing tone.

"It's a pullover," he murmured lowly, "so you’ll need to uncurl to slide it on. I won't look though, okay? I'm going to turn my back to you, and you can tell me when you're covered."

At first, Geno didn't believe him. It was a trick, he was sure. Nightmare was wearing Cross' face and clothing to get him to make a mistake Geno would be unaware of until the very moment his error was made. "N...n-n-no..." he whispered, clutching the soft material draped over him. 

Unseen, Cross' eyes softened, an old memory drifting through his head. When he blinked, the back turned to him was of a different color as another voice rang in his nonexistent ears. _"I...I c-c-can't! He...h-he said I- no...n-no c-c-clothes, Cross. I c-can't wear **my** c-clothes...."_

"Geno," he gently called out, "did _he_ say anything when he- after he left you here like this?"

Shakily, the glitch shook his head.

"He didn't say you couldn't wear your clothes?"

Again, a unsteady shake of the head. 

"What about mine? Did he mention mine?" After being given one last negative, Cross nodded to himself and dared to move the slightest bit closer. "...Put the jacket on, Ge. You won't get in trouble, okay? This isn't a test, or a trick."

 _It is it is it..._ But Geno was cold and didn't want to be jeered at o-or- he shuddered, but, "D-don't look... p-p-please..." 

"I'm not looking, Geno." 

He glanced over his shoulder slightly, only seeing the faint outline of the back of his shoulders. He slowly uncurled his arms enough to slip on the jacket and... 

_It's... so warm..._ He flipped the hood up, tugging the jacket down to better cover himself. Thankfully, Cross was taller, so the jacket covered him completely, but once on, he curled in on himself again. And he watched Cross. 

True to his word, Cross didn't turn around. Didn't seem even want to glance.

Curling his shaking hands into fist within the too-long sleeves of the jacket, Geno brought his knees to his chest and spared a few seconds to stretch the material over his legs. Like Reaper, Cross seemed to wear his clothing baggier so hiding everything but the very tips of his toes was easy.

Comforting, too. 

Shuddering, he tried to bite back his tears. It didn't work.

"C...Cross...?" he whimpered, tucking his chin behind the loose collar and practically hiding within the worn, warm cloth all around him. "I... p-please," hoping was useless, but... _"please, p-please_ l-let me- I... I w-want..."

Closing his eyes against the drowning wave of regret he was faced with, Cross slowly shook his head in response to the plea he was able to guess at. "I can't take you to them, Geno."

Teeth clattering due to a trembling jaw, Geno begged, _"P-please...?"_

 _I'm sorry... I'm sorry...! You don't deserve this, and you don't deserve worse-_ "I can't," _let you get hurt worse for disobeying him._

Cross clenched his jaw. _Night, what the fuck are you doing...?! This is clearly against the deal you set with them!_

Again, Geno's body shook with a sob he couldn't control. The scent all around him was so familiar and so foreign and it just _hurt_ because there was nothing of his first in it. No warm, fresh-brewed coffee, or even the less-appealing morning coffee breath Reaps had. It was _something...._

_But it wasn't enough._

A high, broken whine tore itself from Geno's throat. "Please," he tried to beg once more but all that escaped him was a heart wrenching wail. 

Like a small, frightened child, Geno cried for the comfort he desired from those he loved. His brother, his husbands... at that very moment, he wanted them near more than he wanted anything else in the entire world.

He wanted Error.

_"Are you seriously shaking? C'mon, glitch face. It's sunlight, not a murderous child."_

_Trying to control his trembling, Geno did his best to uncurl his shoulders and straighten so that he could better view the sky in all it's glory, but..._

_It was too much. Too much blue, too much bright light..._

_The open air, the distant sound of conversation...._

_Taking a small step back, Geno shook his head and tried to retreat into the portal they stepped through. Too much, too much, too much...!_

_Tri-colored fingers curled around his own. "Hey," Error murmured, voice softer than it was just moments ago, "it's fine, Geno. I'm here, okay? I... maybe I'm not the greatest at this brother shit, but I won't let anything hurt you."_

He wanted Ink.

_Choking on a sob, Geno curled himself around Reaper's pillow and buried his face into the plush cushion in order to muffle his cries. "It was just a dream, it was just dream, it was just a dream...." he chanted, trying to shake off terrifying, dust stained images._

_He was halfway through his third mantra when the door pushed open. "Ruru~ I'm done with my- oh, this isn't my room! I'm sor- Geno? Are you okay?"_

_Embarrassed to be caught crying like a child, Geno kept his face hidden as he whispered, "Y-yes."_

_"Geno..." The bed dipped next to him. "Um, I know I'm just the brother-in-law and all and that I'm only here because I invited myself over for Ru's and PJ's sleepover...and that maybe you and I haven't talked much...and that, um, you-"_

_Surprising both himself and the artist, Geno chuckled. "J-just...just say what you want, Ink."_

_"...Do you want a hug?" Ink asked, softer than Geno expected._

_Haunted by a terrible nightmare, Geno forced down his embarrassment and nodded. "I... y-yes, please..."_

_He missed his hard working husband but, in the comfort of the night, Geno found it easy to admit to himself that Ink's comforting hug helped just as much as Reaper's own embrace would have._

He... he wanted Reap-

There was a desperate knock on the door. "G-Geno? Gen, baby?! Are... are you in there?!"

Almost immediately, the two reacted. "R-Reaps...?!" came the too-high and too-hopeful choked sob from Geno. 

Cross, on the other hand, was marching to the door with his blade in hand. _You're not supposed to be here. You're not supposed to know where this room is...!_

Though he didn't want to fight the God of Death, especially since Geno seemed to need him so much, he wasn't prepared to deal with the consequences, should Nightmare find out.

“N-no!” Geno cried, scrambling onto his feet and darting after Cross. “Please, C-Cross!” he begged as he slid his arms around one of Cross’, clinging tight and digging his heels into the floor in an attempt to still his stride. “P-please, _please_ l-let him in! Don’t... d-don’t... don’t f-fight h-him! _Please!_ I...” with a sob, he tugged at the taller skeleton again. “I n-need him, Cross.”

Cross owned weights heavier than Geno, yet he still came to a stop when the glitch continued pulling at his arm in distress. “Geno, I _have_ to send him away. He-“

“Geno?! G-Gen, why... w-why aren’t you answering?! B-baby, you’re in there, right? Please, a-answer me!”

It was Cross who had to wrap his arms around Geno next to still him when the glitch abandoned his hold in order to lunge for the door. “Ge-!”

“R-REAPER!” Geno screamed, fighting against the arms around him and reaching out for the door. “R-Reaps! _Honey!_ REAPER!”

“G-Geno?! GENO!”

So, so desperate, the glitch spun in the circle of Cross’ arms. “Geno, come o-“ the scarred skeleton began.

With a wild look of desperation that may have held a hint of an apology, Geno scraped his fingers across Cross’ face. 

Cursing, the second let go to clutch at a bleeding socket. Before he could correct his mistake, the glitch was already at the door and tugging it open, sobbing, “Reaper! Reap-“

“You know...” Nightmare drawled, leaning in the doorway with a wide, amused smirk. “...opening the door to your room is against the rules, Ge-no-cide~”

Geno froze, taking shaky steps back, and nearly falling on his ass. Nightmare straightened, walking closer, and Geno scrambled backwards faster, putting himself behind Cross. Nightmare spared a glance to Cross, eye widening at the blood seeping from between his hand and the formed knife in the other one. Another glance to Geno wearing Cross' jacket had the King chuckling darkly. "Oh? What's this?"

At this point in his life, Cross was well practiced when it came to working with his blade. Gathering magic to form the construct, releasing said magic to dismiss it... where he once struggled, he now excelled in working with the magic of his favored weapon. Through hard work, he could call out his blade, cut an enemy in half, and have all traces of the going sword gone before his victim would even realize they were dead.

Yet as Geno whimpered from behind him, Cross found that all his hard work to hone his skills seemed to be working against him. He should let his magic fade. At the very least, he should lower the sword formed from it.

_"Look, Rookie, if an enemy is near, **never** lower your guard."_

Nightmare stepped forward.

Discreetly, almost unknowingly, Cross tightened his grip on his blade. "...He was naked when I entered for my duties." he dutifully informed Nightmare, as if unaware of his boss being the cause for that nudity. "It seemed inappropriate. Had I known of his state beforehand, I would have brought him one of your selections to wear. Instead, I made due with what I had on me at the time."

With the shield hiding Cross' emotions, picking apart the lie was far from easy. Nightmare had little reason to doubt his decent excuse for Geno's borrowed clothing, but he was a naturally suspicious creature. 

A little doubtful, the king of the castle hummed. "And your eye?"

"A minor incident."

"An incident?" Nightmare repeated, grinning when an attempt to peer around Cross at Geno sent the glitch scrambling around the second's other side to remain hidden. "What, did this little _darling_ fight you to open that door? Or," he was quick to add when Cross went to speak, "was it something else? Some _other_ incident that would make my dear, sweet _obedient_ Genocide risk break the rules by opening that door? You let him borrow your jacket..."

Silently, Cross nodded, though there was no need with his own admission and explanation as to why he did so.

Nightmare smirked. "Did you _like_ him in it, Cross? Did seeing weak, vulnerable little Geno drowning in your clothing spark an _interest?"_ Leaning in closer to the second, Nightmare whispered with a gleaming gaze, "Was that incident him trying to fight you off, as he tried to do with me?"

 _What the actual fu-_ "No, Boss. It was-"

"Genocide?" Nightmare cooed.

Hiccuping with his tears, Geno trembled and latched on to Cross' arm in fear. "...Y-y," he swallowed, "y-yes, N...nighty...?"

"Come here."

 _No, no, n-_ "N-Ni...Nighty..." Geno cried, the name a sick, twisted plea. _Please don't make me._

_"Now."_

Unsteady legs made the small walk to Nightmare's side difficult for the glitch. When hands clamped down onto his hips and forced Geno to turn and face Cross, they practically gave out right then and there. 

The hood of the borrowed jacket was yanked down, the tears and bruises Geno sported so much clearer without the glitch attempting to hide. "Isn't he just the cutest?" Nightmare cooed, a tendril trailing after the cloth slipping down Geno's flushed, bitten shoulder when the too-big neckline drooped. "Isn't he just so. Endearingly. _Helpless?_ I wouldn't fault you for being temped, you know?" His socket lidded. "In fact, I think I'll encourage it. This room smells foul, and Geno needs a better bath than the one I allowed him after our _fun_. See to that while I have the room cleaned. Play around with him if you wish, too."

"...Is that all?" Cross murmured, knuckles creaking as his hold on his blade tightened further.

Stroking Geno's hip, Nightmare thought. Then, he chuckled. "One more thing, actually. No dinner for him tonight. I wouldn't want to make a glutton out of him by allowing dear Geno a meal. See," pressing a kiss to the glitch's skull, Nightmare slid a hand low over the front of his pelvis. "he's still quite _full."_

Nausea burned the back of Cross' throat. "Understood."

"Good, I'll be taking my lead then. Have _fun_ , you too." Nightmare murmured with a smirk. Catching Geno's eye as he made his way to the door, he chuckled in amusement and cooed, "Bye, Gen~" in a perfect imitation of Reaper's voice.


	58. Ignorance Is Bliss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the husbands remain unaware of Geno's fate and Cross struggles with what he thinks he knows.

True to Nightmare's words, no matter how much the husbands impressed him, they were not gifted Geno again. Ink trained his husbands on knives and the double-edged glaive until Error was able to completely mask his fear or discomfort of the blades, and even with the injured shoulder, Reaper was able to fend off attacks. 

It was the end of the third week. Chores and training, overseen by Cross. Surprisingly little interaction with the other nightmares. Error had several appointments with the king of the castle, and the other second that took him away from Ink and Reaper for no more than an hour at a time. Time where he learned basically nothing from either of them. 

Ink was checking up on Reaper's shoulder. "It's... not as bad as it was, but we might need to start massaging around the wound to try and straighten out the knots..." 

Laying on his front, shirtless as he was, Reaper murmured, "Never imagined my first massage from you would be like this. I was hoping for something more... sexy." 

"Yeah I'm sure you-" 

_Creak!_

They both glanced to the door, where a tired Error trudged through with a couple of hangers in hand. "Dinner attire...." he grumbled, tossing it onto the dresser. 

Ink paused with his hands on Reaper's shoulders, staring at Error being completely unfazed at seeing the way his first sat on the other's hips, though both still wore pants and Ink still wore a shirt. 

Error sat next to them, shoulders down. "Havin' fun you two?" 

"Seems like more than you have..." Ink frowned a little. "Are you okay, hon?" 

"Just more fucking bullshit..." He rubbed his head. "Reaps, have you checked on the idiot's chest?"

"I'm fine!" Ink protested. 

Error glanced side-long to Ink, eyes narrowing on his chest. "...looks a little damp..." 

Ink immediately looked away. "....I might've.... um... accidentally opened the wounds...? But I'm not sure why it hasn't healed yet...."

Already feeling a headache building up behind his eyes, Error sighed heavily and shooed Ink away from his spot on the god's hips just so that he could claim it for himself. "Grab the first aid kit and a wet cloth or two, Inky. I'll take over for this, then I'll take a look at your chest."

Wincing sympathetically at the purple blooming in his skull, Ink shook his head. "Ru, you barely slept last night. You should take a nap. _I'll_ take care of Reaps."

"And then I'll help out Ink." Reaper added, knowing better than to let Ink get away with hiding injuries.

 _ **None** of us slept much last night._ Or the night before, or any other night this last week. The more it became apparent that they wouldn't be seeing Geno anytime soon, the harder it got to sleep through the agonizing worry none of them could shake. "Look, I don't want to argue over this shit, okay? Just... please, Ink? Just get the shit I asked for and sit down for a bit. I won't take long."

Reaper sighed as Error started working into the magic tension in his shoulder. Ink pressed a kiss to Error's temple before retreating into the bathroom for the things. He stared at the water as it run and slowly heated up... 

_"Alright, son," Ink grinned down at PJ. "You ready to make daddy some art?"_

_Three-year-old PJ grinned back up at him. Both hands on parent and child were covered in multiple, dripping colors of paint. "Now!" Ink yelled out, and the both of them slammed their hands down on the canvases in front of them. "Alright! Smear it in a little- good! Aaaand, lift!"_

_They lifted their hands up, and near perfect skeletal hand prints, both big and small, were left on the canvases. PJ squealed and clapped his hands, unintentionally splattering paint on his face and the canvas. Seeing the splatter, he burst into tears. "I RUINED IT!" he wailed._

_"No! No no!" Ink knelt down and took PJ's hands into his own and his next smile to his kid was kind. "Paperjam, look. Daddy's gonna love it! Especially with the splatter! It's... chaotic! And different! And he's gonna love it because **you** made it, little artist!" Still, PJ stared up at him with a tearful gaze. "PJ, he'll love it. Now, let's get your hands clean so we can sign our canvases!"_

Ink blinked a few times, hurrying to wet a cloth in the now-hot water. He forced a smile on his face and wandered back to the husbands, where Reaper was trilling softly under Error's precise fingers. His first glanced over, frowning slightly more at Ink's fake smile. "Took you long enough."

"Sorry, sorry~ I was just-"

"Ink."

Watching Ink's smile crumple was like watching storm clouds seal away the light of the sun. Without the fake expression of cheer the artist wore, he looked dull. Tired and old, too, but in the same manner that Reaper often looked so ancient and worn on his bad days when his unkind duties weighed on his shoulders. Seeing that expression of utter defeat and exhaustion on Ink's face was painful.

When his heart gave two sympathetic pangs, Ink chuckled weakly. "Don't worry about me, you too. I'm just..." One glance at their expressions had the artist admitting the truth. "I miss them. Gen, our kids, our brothers... every little thing reminds me of them."

Pleasured trilling turning into a mournful croon, Reaper murmured, "...Yeah, same here. It's- stars, it's been three weeks but it feels like ages, doesn't it?"

"It feels like its been _forever,"_ Error whispered, accepting a warm, wet cloth from Ink and carefully re-cleaning the areas of Reaper's wound that needed it the most. "We... we were supposed to take PJ out. For... f-for his-"

"For his birthday." Ink finished, sockets burning with tears.

Quietly thanking Error once the destroyer was finished from his back, Reaper carefully pushed himself up and slowly rolled his shoulders to test out the wound. The pain was still there, but it was nothing compared to the ache within his chest. "Gothy and I picked out his gift _months_ ago. He's been excited to give it to PJ since we've wrapped it. He... he drew him a picture instead of making a card, you know? Used all the lessons PJ's been trying to give him."

When Reaper's voice broke on the last few words, neither of his husbands mentioned it. Drawing attention to the god's sorrow was both pointless and cruel when all their eyes were wet with tears.

"Just one more week." Ink murmured, shrugging off his shirt to allow Error access to his wounded chest and ribs.

Reaper and Error couldn't help but exchange glances. They hoped for one more week, but hope was dangerous in a place fueled by crushing it. Ink sat down by Reaper amd braced himself with fingers tangled in the sheets. 

Error stepped forward and peered at the wounds. Sure enough, they were healing, but much slower than… well, Error couldn't remember the last time the artist sported a bad would, aside from Aftertale… 

Ink clenched his jaw in frustration. "It should've healed by now…" he muttered. 

Their godly husband was sitting up in the bed, carefully pulling a button-up shirt on, though he glanced at the wound and cringed. "I think it's healing normally-" 

"Not for me..." Ink frowned. "It's just this… feeling. Like, it should've been healed a few days ago, yet it keeps opening-" he hissed in pain and glanced away as Error started cleaning up the wound with the cloth. 

"Stars…" Reaper gently traced an old whip scar hidden beneath layers of dark, swirling ink tattoos on his back. "Hon, when did-" 

Error shot the god a look and sharply shook his head, especially when Ink's gaze seemed to go distant. Instead, Reaper made himself more comfortable behind the artist, covering his hands with his own. Ink leaned back against him, tightly clinging to the blanket as Error cleaned up the gouges again.

Error hissed in sympathy when an especially deep gouge caused Ink to flinch back from the cloth. Pressing a kiss to his collar bone in an apology, he did his best to be gentler as he finished cleaning the wounds and began applying a fresh bandage. "Try not to open these again, idiot..."

Dropping his head back against Reaper's good shoulder, Ink sighed. Weary, he murmured, "Ru, I'm _trying."_ But training wasn't kind on the gouges. And it wasn't like he could put that on hiatus either. 

Error knew Ink was doing his best to be kind on his body, but that didn't lessen the frustration he felt. In a way, it worsened everything because Ink was actually trying to prevent his wounds from reopening, but Nightmare's orders kept interfering with that. _One of the few times the idiot agrees to take it easy and he **can't.**_ It was infuriating. 

With a kiss to the side of Ink's skull, Reaper gently urged the taller skeleton to sit up so that he could slide out from behind him, curious about what their dinner attire for the evening would be. _Please not another suit, please not another suit.._. "How was the meeting, hon?" he questioned Error, unzipping the bag marked with his name and relaxing when he found casual dress clothes. No tie, vest or a fitted, restrictive jacket. "Anything interesting happen?"

 _Did that asshole touch you?_ Ink wanted to know.

Rubbing sleep from his eyes, Error scoffed. "Interesting? No, not really. Nightmare spent the entire time going on and on and _on_ about the fucking _budget_ of all things."

"You guys have a budget?" They both blurted out. 

Error paused long enough to glance at the both of them. "...yes..." 

"Huh..." Ink reached up and gently covered one of Error's hands with his own. He gave a concerned look to his first. "...Any injuries from you...?" 

"No." 

"Lying?" 

"No." He finished up the bandages then leaned forward, pressing their grins together. He pulled away. "You could tell if I was, though. I know you could. So don't worry about me right now." 

Ink stared back at him, frowning slightly. "I'm..." 

"Always gonna worry? Yeah." Error pushed him back slightly by his forehead. "Idiots always worry 'bout shit they can't control. So why don't you just get dressed and, I dunno, hope Horror doesn't try poisoning you again?" 

"You know poisons don't work on me..." Ink muttered glancing to Reaper.

Meeting his gaze, the god raised a brow. “That doesn’t make watching you vomit up _just_ the poison any less startling. How does your body even do that?”

The answer Ink gave was the same one he often had for most of his abilities. “I don’t know.” And he didn’t know. 

Cringing at the memory of Ink coughing out powder eerily similar to dust, Error pushed himself to his feet and made his was over their god. “Okay, no. No talking about puking before dinner, damnit.” He grumbled, taking the hanger Reaper offered him and passing it along to Ink. “Let’s just get dressed. I want to get this shit over with as quickly as we can.” He was tired, damnit. Error just wanted to _sleep._

Tugging on the pants, Ink snickered, "Maybe I can ask if Horror wants it back this time?" 

Reaper shuddered. "Babe. No." 

He sighed. "No fun..." 

They got the rest of their clothes on in silence, just as three sharp knocks sounded on the door. Groaning, Error walked to the door, still buttoning up his shirt. He opened the door, unsurprised to see Cross. "Couldn't keep away from me, could ya?" he muttered. 

The other second snorted. "Like flies to shit." 

"Huh..." Error narrowed. "Are ya calling me a little shit?" 

The other cracked a smile. "Now why would I do that?" his smile dropped as he glanced away. "It's time for dinner." 

"Yeah." He glanced in at Ink and Reaper and nodded. "C'mon..." 

Reaper rumbled, "Cross." 

Ink glanced uncertainly at the other second, frowning slightly, though didn't say his own greeting. And Cross didn't exactly offer one to them, but did slightly nod to them.

"Let's get going, you three." Cross commanded, turning his back to them and beginning a slow stride down the hall, sure that the husbands would follow. "Oh, and Ink?"

Narrowing his eyes slightly at the other second's back, Ink hesitantly responded with a slow, dragged out, "Yeah...?"

"Horror has been spoken to. The poisoning? It won't happen again."

Error snorted in disbelief. "It's Horror, Cross. He'll just find another subtle way to fuck with Ink. You know it, too."

Rolling his shoulders to relieve the rebuilding tension around his wound, Reaper frowned. "Why is he still targeting Ink? I thought the situation was technically taken care of. The nightmare way, or something?" he asked, still uncertain of just what that entailed. 

Together, Cross and Error sighed, "Because it's _Horror,"_ before sharing a bemused look. 

Continuing from the statement, Error explained, "Horror is... stubborn, in a way. Persistent, I guess you could call it. When something pisses him off- or worse, _interests_ him- he doesn't let it go easily. Grudges, his games... they go on _forever_ when it comes to that ass. What's worse is that he's far more subtle than Killer is when that asshole gets pissed."

Ink shrugged. "Whatever..." the god shot him a concerned frown while Error tensed slightly and glared at him. 

"Try not to piss him off more?" Error growled. 

"What?" Ink raised his hands. "Hold on! I don't _try_ to piss people off! It just _happens!"_

Cross glanced sideways at them. "It was probably just the thing with Killer. Just don't talk to him, you'll be fine." 

_And the dance..._ But Ink chuckled. "No talking? Are you serious?" 

"Do whatever, but no blows are to be exchanged during dinner." Cross stopped at the doors and nudged them open. Inside, the other nightmares were already milling about. "Dinner's going to be a little... less formal tonight, but manners are still required."

 _Less formal, huh?_ Reaper thought, briefly overcome with a wave of envy at the sight of Killer and Horror dressed in their usual clothing. No dress slacks, no annoyingly fitted dress shirt... 

Taking note of what the two willing nightmares wore, Cross sighed. At least Endure was wearing his finer casual clothing like they were _all_ supposed to be doing. "Killer, Horror? What the hell are you wearing?" For fuck's sake, Horror hadn't even bothered with an unstained jacket.

Smirking at the irritation in Cross' voice, the knife wielding Sans lifted the corner of his hoodie and motioned to it cheerfully. "Casual clothes, like we were told."

"You _know_ I said _business casual."_

"Eh," Killer shrugged, "seemed pointless. I mean, Nighty isn't even gonna be here today.'

While Reaper and Error managed to keep their expressions blank. "He _what?"_ Ink asked. 

"Oh, you didn't know?" Killer sneered. At Ink's narrowing gaze, Killer sobered slightly, but flashed his sockets to Cross. "Are we gonna eat or not?" 

"..." Cross glanced at the husbands and nodded slightly, though his next look to Killer and Horror was... unkind. 

Horror just grinned wider and sat down in his spot. 

Endure was already seated and ready to start eating. A quick glance into his colors, and Ink frowned. Seemed like the Papyrus didn't want to talk, let alone be there. Shortly, the rest of them sat down and got themselves comfortable. It was... odd not having to wait for the king to let them eat, so Cross murmured, "Dig in, guys." 

Horror's overly-large eye light glanced between each of the husbands with that too-wide grin on his face as he opened the cover to reveal... a fancy chicken alfredo dish, with a side of garlic toast. 

Endure sighed, and those murky leave-me-alone colors just increased. It was... incredibly close to spaghetti.

When Ink lifted the cover over his own meal, he was somehow unsurprised to find himself blinking down at an eye sitting innocently in the middle of his own pasta. _Not human_ , he noted, a little unsure of how he knew that, but almost completely positive that he was correct. "Lovely."

Reaper leaned into his space and glanced down at the eyeball. "Huh, cow. You gonna eat that?"

Horror's grin dropped slightly at their uninteresting responses, though he was a little curious as to just how the god was able to correctly guess the source. "How did you know?"

When Ink shook his head, Reaper grinned and stabbed it through with his fork. "Seen a lot of eyeballs in my line of work. You eventually learn the differences. You boil this?"

"...Yeah." Horror grumbled. 

"Sweet." And then, before their very eyes, Reaper popped the eyeball in his mouth and ate it with a smile.

Cross looked like he was about lose what was in his system, though he was glad he didn't find any surprises when he opened his own plate. Though disgusted, Error hid his own smile with a bite of pasta. Ink twirled some pasta onto his fork before taking a bite too. 

Silence reigned over the dinner, aside from the clinking of forks on plates and the slurping of noodles and the sipping of a white wine or water. 

_No extra seasonings?_ Ink thought, watching Killer and Horror with narrowed sockets. 

Within minutes, Endure had completed his meal, but still sat and sipped wine. Error glanced at him. "In a hurry, Newbie?" 

"Yes," he muttered. "I have tasks to complete." He looked to Cross. "May I be allowed to leave?" 

A glance at the entirely empty plate in front of him and the nearly gone glass of wine, Cross frowned slightly more. "Clean up after yourself." 

He nodded and left, taking his dishes with him. 

Horror leaned over the back of his chair, "End! Make sure the leftovers are away, kay?" 

"Of course." And he vanished into the kitchen. 

Killer tilted his gaze at Horror with a grin. "Leftovers? Really?" 

He shrugged. "It's a good dish." His gaze slid to Ink. "Isn't it?" 

"Could use some more herbs, but it's pretty good. Even the chicken is still juicy." 

He blinked once at the sincerity in the answer and narrowed his eyes. "Hmph."

Prodding at his own meal, Reaper sighed, "Kinda disappointed there's no more eyes. Haven't had anything like that in awhile. Gen-" he paused, as if his first husband's name were a taboo. 

In a way, it kind of was. One mention, and the slight smiles Ink and Error wore both strained. 

So focused on the reaction of his husbands, Reaper failed to notice the way that Cross stiffened, his easy, relaxed posture lost with the mention of the glitch's name. 

Horror, on the other hand, grinned; a look of interest in his eye as he slid his large, unsettling eyelight away from the white and black clad skeleton to the god. "What? He too afraid of getting his hands dirty to boil a few eyeballs?"

Reaper tightened his grip on the fork. "Nah, but asking for them from the butcher, then carrying them around the store doesn't exactly make friends." 

Ink shivered slightly and continued to eat, though his appetite had gone down now. 

"At least nobody's tossing knives around," Error grumbled. "Unless your injuries are still giving you problems?" 

Killer shot a look to him, then glared at Ink. "Yeah. Something like that." 

The artist bristled at the bloodlust shooting at him from the murderous skeleton. _Didn't stop you and Horror from-_

"Why don't we finish dinner in _silence_ , then be dismissed for tomorrow?" Cross suggested with a hint of a growl.

"Ooooh, scary," Killer teased, poking fun at the deep, gravely tone of voice Cross spoke with. "What, have a hard time sleeping again, Crossy?"

 _Yes, actually._ "I'd ask you the same, but judging by the noises I heard last night? Yeah, you _definitely_ didn't get any sleep either."

Horror's gaze sharpened. _"Either_ , eh? If you were up listening to me fix Kills' bandages, then you really didn't sleep at all, huh?" Slowly, he slid his gaze over the trio of husbands, taking note of the magic burned under all their sockets. "Heh, something you want to share with the rest of the class, Cross? Have you been having fun with your friends next door?"

_"Have fun you two," Nightmare murmured with a smirk._

The metal of his utensil began to bend as it submitted to Cross' tightening hold. "That's it, no more asking. This time, I'm telling _all_ of you how this is going to go: No more talking. Eat, clean up, then go. And I don't want to hear any confirmations or objections," he snapped when he saw Killer open his mouth. "Just eat." Even Error glanced to him in surprise, though they all obeyed. 

There was silence, though with the looks being shot between the willing nightmares and at the husbands, the silence... it was uncomfortable. 

Triple so for Ink, who thought he could practically hear the thoughts running through Killer's and Horror's heads. _Especially _when they both decided to eat _slower_. To prolong the dinner and make the tense atmosphere worse. __

__Cross glared at them, knowing exactly what they were doing._ _

___I swear, it's like dealing with a table full of children,_ he inwardly growled, sockets narrowed threateningly even as he tried to enjoy the food on his plate. Already tired from a long, restless night, the fuse to his temper was running dangerously short. _ _

__When Error jerked in place and glared at Killer, Cross snapped._ _

__"Did you really just fucking kick him?" he growled, slamming his bent, broken fork into the table and standing from his seat to loom over them all. "Killer, what the actual fuck? What are you? _Five?"__ _

__Shit eating grin in place, the nightmare in question raised a brow and tapped his seal grin thrice with a finger. _No talking, remember?_ the action said, a raised brow added as if to question Cross' intelligence._ _

__Unseen to all but one, small cracks began forming in the barrier around the ex-guard's emotions. Red hot rage seeped through the fractures, growing brighter and stronger as Killer's mocking silence continued no matter how much Cross demanded an answer from him._ _

__Finally, when the rage began to show on Cross' face and Killer _snickered_ , what little of the barrier that remained shattered; flooding Ink with hot, burning red that nearly smothered all other emotion around him. "If you want to behave like children, then _fine._ Go to your room, asshole. **Now.** No dinner, no fucking **Horror** -" he paused, "- _literally_ , and no more bullshit from for the rest of the night. And if you want to argue? If you still want to dick around? Fine, go ahead. I'm sure boss will _love_ to hear about your disobedience. _Again."__ _

__Killer scowled, "Seriously? You're calling me a kid when you're the one threatening to tattle-tale on me like a kindergartner?"_ _

__"Not one more word." Cross warned. "Just shut the fuck up and _go_. **Both** of you."_ _

__Not one word, huh? Well then, how about _more_ than one? An entire sentence or two, even!_ _

__Killer smirked. "Heh, you must _really_ want to get back to your _duties._ What, can't wait another half a hour for dinner to be over with? You miss your _boyfriend_ that much that you want to go see him now?"_ _

__He yelped backward as a red blade slashed across his face. "What the FUCK, Cross!"_ _

__"The fact that you're _still_ talking and _not listening to orders_ is not going to go well for you." _ _

__Sockets blazing, Killer stood up and snatched his dishes from the table before storming to the kitchen. Horror watched him go before shooting a dark look at Cross._ _

__"Don't you _dare_ give me that fucking look, Horror. You **know** I could've done much worse to him." With that, the knife evaporated and Cross sat down. It was slow work, but with Killer no longer in view, he was able to start rebuilding his shields. _ _

__Way too late for Ink, who had frozen, staring at his nearly empty plate with sockets _burning_ red from Cross' rage. He blinked several times, and the color finally shifted with the symbols as Cross calmed down again._ _

__Breathing in deeply, Cross sighed heavily and held the exhale as he did so, willing the lingering heat of his rage away with the exiting rush of air. "Anyone else have something smart to say? _Or_ do?" he asked, applying pressure to straighten his fork before calmly returning to his meal._ _

___What was that?_ Ink wanted to ask, ire that wasn't his own slow to fade. It could be worse though, he knew. With the strength of the anger that flowed through him, Ink could very well be frothing at the mouth even as his own emotions settled back in place in the empty spaces left behind by the borrowed rage. That kind of rage... _ _

__You didn't get that angry over nothing. Exhaustion, a bit of teasing... it shouldn't have been enough to produce the kind of rage that often leads to _murder.__ _

___And another thing..._ Knowing he shouldn't ask but unable to shake the feeling that he had to know, Ink turned his usual symbols onto Cross and murmured, "I didn't know you were dating. Congratulations?"_ _

___I'm not-_ but that just opened a door to even more questions, didn't it?_ _

__Very tired and very, very done with this day, Cross sighed, "...Thanks."_ _


	59. A Fine Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there's a fine line between love and hate and Ink is struggling not to Cross it.

The rest of the was dinner actually completed in silence, and they cleaned up after themselves. With the last utensil washed, Cross' shield was fortified all over again. His expression as blank as ever. "Horror, I'm not kidding. I find you or Killer fucking, it'll be all the worse for the both of you." 

Horror growled but muttered, "Sure." He watched the husbands for a moment longer, gaze lingering on Ink's sockets, before he turned away and disappeared down the hall. 

Cross turned his attention to Error. "Let the artist and the god know what you're to be doing this weekend." 

"Right..." though Error still studied Cross for a moment longer. The new cut on his face with the bandage over it. The magic-burned sockets. The unusual stillness to him when he moved. Once he was certain Horror was out of ear-shot, he took a step forward, "Cross-" 

The other second flinched away, snapping, _"Don't_ , Error. Just... go. We'll talk in the morning." He turned away, and the flowing jacket and scarf a near startling counter to the stillness within him. 

Reaper glanced to Error. "...the hell was that...?" 

"Don't worry about it right now... let's just... we have a few things we need to do tomorrow." Error took Reaper's hand and looked further behind him to Ink. "Inky, c'mon." 

The artist blinked and slid his gaze to Error. He nodded and took his husbands' hands, following them silently back to the room they shared.

Bringing their clasped hands up to his mouth, Reaper pressed a kiss to Error's knuckles before dropping their hands back to his side and swinging their arms lazily. Grinning, Ink replicated the god's actions on his own end until the destroyer between them was sporting a small, amused smile.

"Dorks." Error murmured fondly, squeezing their hands lightly and dragging them through the door to their room. "Let's all try to get some sleep. Tomorrow..." he sighed, kicking off his shoes and working his dress shirt open. "We're going to have a long day."

"A long one or a _boring_ one?" Reaper asked as he worked his own clothes open and let them fall to the ground. A little itchy after having been shoved into yet another restrictive outfit, he kicked the pile of clothing to the side and crawled into bed wearing nothing more than his loose underwear.

Ink grinned and abandoned the shirt he was about to shrug on in favor of doing the same.

"Both." Error grumbled, shaking their head at his husbands' near nudity. "I mentioned budgeting earlier, yeah? We're nearing the end of the month so that was in preparation of replacing supplies. Tomorrow, we're expected to go around the castle to take stock of what we need." he snorted. "Within limits, of course."

Snatching the sleep shorts from Error's hands, Ink tossed them away and tugged Error down between Reaper and himself by the soft sweater he was now wearing. "Tell us the details tomorrow, honey. For now, let's just relax, okay?"

"Tch," Error snuggled in with the two of them, sighing. "The one time you assholes aren't trying to jump my bones and I almost want you to..." 

A brilliant blush exploded across both their faces as they glanced over Error at each other. _Should we?_ But Error held them closer, murmuring, "No not now..." his sockets fluttered shut as a yawn escaped him. "Sleep... s-sleep time..." Within moments, the destroyer was out. 

Reaper reached across him, taking Ink's hand gently. "Inky..." 

The artist rested his head on Error's shoulder, sighing. "I'm okay Reaps..." his voice was softer than a whisper. 

"But you..." Reaper snuggled in close to Error too. "You're not gonna admit to anything, are you?" 

"Not likely..." 

Frowning, the god squeezed his hand, "Okay... okay, just... take care of yourself." 

Ink smiled softly at him, "I'll be okay... sleep, Reaps. I love you." 

Error held them closer, grumbling in his sleep. The god chuckled a little, pressing a kiss to Error's head before resting his own on the destroyer's shoulder. "Goodnight..."

"Goodnight." Ink whispered, closing his eyes and listening as Reaper's voice evened alongside the destroyer's. Sleep didn't come to him as quickly, but laying there, being lulled by quiet murmurs and soft exhales, Ink found it much easier to drift off than it had been all week. Maybe, the exhaustion was just setting in too deeply to be ignore...?

Ink preferred to think that his husbands were just that magical.

———

Ink, groggy, rolled over and groaned as he hid his face in Error's neck, annoyed by the distant blaring of an alarm that just kept going on...and on...and...on....

_Shit!_

Sockets snapping open, Ink shot up in bed with a gasp. Although the sudden, sharp movement pulled at his chest uncomfortably, he ignored the flaring purple for now and turned to look at their clock. It took a few moments for his eyes to focus through the well slept blur, but once they did...

"Error, Reaper! Wake up!" he hissed, reaching out and slamming his hand on the clock. "Guys, we overslept!"

Error groaned. "Overslept? No... we still have another 15 minutes-" 

"We're late by _two hours_ , Ru...!" 

Error's sockets flung open as he looked at the time on the clock. "Sonnova _bitch."_ He was up and throwing clothes at the husbands and onto himself. **"Fuckers,"** he hissed, "I had it set at the right time. _Reaps!"_

Groggily, he tugged on pants and swung his legs over the edge. "Dammit.. how much trouble are we in...?" 

"It'll be more if I murder them for _good_ this time..." Error snarled. "Hurry. We're supposed to have been done with the kitchen and starting on the cleaning supplies by now." 

He stormed to the door and threw it open to find Cross standing there frowning. "Your alarms-" 

"Changed," Error snapped. Ink started to reach for his first, wanting to soothe his irritation, but- 

"That's convenient," came the purring voice of Nightmare. He stepped up from behind Cross, to grin at the husbands. "Because I heard a different story from a little birdie." 

"Did that little birdie happen to have a hole in his head?" Error clenched his fists together. 

"Perhaps." 

"Night, you _know-"_

"Enough."

Stepping forward to meet the king in the doorway, Error snarled, "Fucking _listen to me,_ Nightmare!" and instantly stilled.

 _Oh... oh gods, Ru..._ Pressing a hand over his mouth in horror, Ink shakily stepped forward only to have any further progress cut off by an ashen Reaper reaching out and catching him by the arm. 

Smile cold, Nightmare tilted his head. "Was that an _order_ , Nightmare?" he questioned sweetly before both his expression and voice darkened. "Oh, my apologies. You're not _me_ , are you, Error? You're not the _king_ of this castle. You're not," he stepped closer, "the," he hissed, _"leader_ , but your audacity in daring to order _me_ around was so bold it almost fooled me into believing you were."

"N...N-night-"

"You're in the presence of a _king._ Kneel, destroyer." he commanded, eye a poisonous glow due to rage. "The rest of you, too. _Kneel."_ As Ink, Reaper, and Cross followed the order, that bright gaze never left Error; watching intently as the shaking skeleton dropped to his knees and groveled with an apologetic expression. "Order me around like that again, and I'll cut out every tongue you have, Error. But I'm a just ruler. You've only just awoken, so I'll let your foolish, foolish mistake slide. There'll only be _one_ punishment today."

"Night-" Error tried.

He was ruthlessly spoken over. "Cross, keep the artist and god busy. Error is going to come with me to my office and help me decide on a punishment for the tardiness these three showcase today. You will be relieved to attend to your other duties when Error returns. Oh, and Error?"

"...Yes, Nigh-"

_"Error."_

"...Yes, Boss...?"

"Go ahead and make your way over like that. I like you on your knees." Nightmare purred before turning on his heel and striding away. "The rest of you three may rise."

Reaper shakily rose to his feet with Cross standing just slightly faster, but Ink couldn't bring the strength to his legs as he watched his husband forced to follow after Nightmare on his knees. Even with his short stature, the king walked fast when he desired. Even after they rounded the corner, all Ink could do was tremble and desperately try to sense where Error was going. "I... Reaps, h-how did they change our alarm...?!" 

"Probably snuck in when we were asleep," he snarled lowly. 

"That- no I'm not a heavy sleeper. I-" Ink froze. "F-fuck..." fury flashed in his sockets. If he went after Nightmare and Error, his family would be punished further, but _Horror and Killer-_

Cross' arm tightening around him was the only thing that brought him back to reality. "Don't." Cross growled. "We're going to wait here until Error or Nightmare get back." 

"O-Or...?!" Ink gripped his arm. "C-Cross, let go-" 

"No." He flicked his gaze to Reaper. "Go sit on the bed." 

Ink freaked out harder. "N-no, Error..! H-he's gonna hurt R-Ru..! He's- Cross! Cross let go, _please let go!!"_

Expression hardening, Cross had to drag Ink into the room and kick the door shut before shoving Ink further in. "Listen to me," Cross' eye flared with magic. "Because if you directly disobey me, you'll end up making it worse on him."

Ink leapt to his feet, only to be held back by Reaper dragging him into his arms. Ink shook, panicking harder as the emotional signatures he felt from Error faded. "N-no, Ru no, n-no, no...!" 

The guard clenched his fists tightly. "It doesn't matter if you slept through your alarms or if someone changed them-" 

"Cross," Reaper spoke calmly, though fury laced his voice and fear made his arms around Ink tremble. "You... you _know_ we didn't-" 

"I know you wouldn't risk Geno's wellbeing. But that doesn't matter to Nightmare. Now, do Geno a favor and _behave."_

———

Once Error made it to Nightmare's room, his knees were scraped and bruised and seeping blood into his pants. His very SOUL shook with the fear of whatever Nightmare was planning.

"Rise. I don't want your blood ruining my floor."

His first attempt at standing failed. Bloody knees shaking and overall legs unstable with his fear, standing seemed like an impossible task. The second try, he nearly managed it.

It took three in total for Error to stand before Nightmare without fail.

Seated behind a large, wooden desk with his chin balanced on crossed phalanges, Nightmare watched all of Error's attempts and only spoke once he was sure the destroyer wouldn't topple over like an unsteady toddler. "Are you done wasting my time?"

Unable to speak pass the fear stealing his breath, Error nodded. 

"Use your fucking words, Error."

He fucking _couldn't_. If he tried- fuck, but Nightmare knew very well what state his voice would be in, didn't he? That was the reason he wanted Error to speak, he bet. "Y...y-yes, b...b-boss..."

A conflicted look crossed Nightmare's face; pride over a correct assumption warring with his annoyance over the habit he hadn't found amusing in years. "When I said use your words, I meant to do so _correctly_. Try again."

"Y...y...y-"

"Again."

"Y...y-ye...ye..."

_"Again."_

For nearly ten minutes, Nightmare spent his time humiliating Error over his stuttering; forcing him to attempt the two simple words again and again until the distress only succeeded in worsening the destroyer's inability to fluidly verbalize his thoughts. Insults, mocking smiles, and jeers were all thrown Error's way until Nightmare decided enough was enough and that he had his fun.

"Since you can't speak like a grown adult, then you'll simply just have to stand there and listen. I suppose that's good for me because I have quite a few ideas to share with you on how you and your husbands ought to be punished. Tell me, Error- oh, I mean _try_ to tell me..." A tendril slid before Nightmare, empty until a snap had Geno's SOUL appearing in it's grasp, "...do you think carving a few pieces out of this would be a suitable punishment? Simply shake your head or nod. I don't have all day to wait for you to finish a sentence."

———

Ink's chest was burning but he didn't care as he curled himself up into a tighter ball, trembling on the lap of his other, slightly shorter husband who held him with comforting yet restraining arms. "Ru..." he sobbed, not for the first time and far from the last.

Shaking with silent tears, Reaper held him closer and pressed his teeth to Ink's skull, whispering, "He... he'll be fine, Inky," but unable to believe it as the minutes slowly ticked by without sign of their destroyer's return.

Turned away to give them privacy, Cross hunched slightly, shoulders curled inward as he suffered under the weight of his own concealed worry.

———

Error trembled harder, staring at his brother's SOUL. A-a suitable punishment..!? B-but-

"Or are you thinking a larger chunk would be better? Maybe I should just tear this sucker in half. It's surprisingly.... stretchy. Like a candy." He brought it closer to his face. "Hmm... a candy... he _does_ taste pretty sweet. Even when he's crying." 

His fists clenched at his sides, though the trembling wouldn't _fucking stop...!_

Nightmare flicked his gaze back to Error. "Unless you don't care about poor, sweet little Ge-no-cide anymore?" He grinned.

———

At the sound of shuffling just outside the door, both the guard and the artist paused. A red blade formed immediately in Cross' hand while Ink's eyelights flashed through too many colors and symbols for Reaper to keep track of.

_That glee... that fury..._

Reaper held his husband tighter as a soft knock sounded on the door, and a sugary sweet yet deep voice sounded. "Oh nightmares~!" Killer sang out with false worry. "Are you three okay? You're a bit... _behind schedule."_

"We made you some breakfast," Horror added, though it was clear in his voice that he was grinning. 

Finally, the symbols settled on red splatters. Ink's voice dropped, "Reaps, let go." 

Cross flashed a look at them. "Do **not** let him go," he hissed. 

Ink glared darkly at Cross, "It's-" 

"Not your problem anymore. _Stand down."_

"Oh?" Horror's voice perked up with interest. "Is that Cross I hear in there? Whatcha doing, oh brave second? Punish-" 

Cross stood in front of the door and raised his voice slightly. "You two are supposed to be training Endure right now. There's no way you finished so soon."

"He's a fast-" 

"He is, but even he doesn't know how to properly use everything we have," Cross interrupted immediately. "Go." 

"Or what?" Killer sounded like he was sneering. "You gonna hurt us, babe?" 

Cross slid a considering eye to the husbands. "How about I sic the artist on you? You two had quite a... _fun_ time, last time, right, Kills?" 

"That's not fucking funny," Horror snapped, slamming a fist into the door. 

"Then **go**." 

Silence settled on the other side, until shuffling was heard, and a soft, "He's _gotta_ be blowin them all!" 

"Tch." Cross didn't let his blade fade, but instead slid down the door and coldly watched the husbands. It was cruel, he knew it was, but he snapped, "Done cryin' yet...? Because that ain't gonna bring him back faster."

Ink laughed. It was disturbingly hollow. Broken, too. Cold. "I... I don't get you." he giggled, slumping back against Reaper instead of fighting the god for his freedom. "I just... I don't get you at all, Cross. You know, Dream," his voice wavered, "he- out of all you nightmares, he always thought you were the most redeemable. Even over Ru. I... sometimes, I think I see what he did. When you let yourself be, you're funny. Nice too, I sometimes think. But then..."

Reaper felt Ink tense too late. "Babe, wai-!" he began shouting, but Ink was out of his arms before he could tighten his hold. 

"But _then,"_ Ink snarled, taking a single step forward, "you say shit like that. Are we done crying? No, Cross, we're not fucking done yet! Want to know why? Because our husband could damn well be getting tortured right now! We're _crying_ because _Error_ could be _screaming_ somewhere in this fucking castle _and we don't know!"_

Reaper desperately reached out and grabbed Ink's hand only for the artist to smack the hold away and stalk towards Cross. Sockets full of red, he ignored the blade in the other's hand as he got in close, dark blood staining his shirt as the weaponized magic cut a fine line through the material and his already injured ribs. "Like you said," Ink whispered, "crying isn't going to bring Ru back any faster."

Cross nearly wavered at the tears dripping down Ink's face. Not clear, not colorful like the artist's magic, but red like _blood._ "Ink, step bac-"

"I thought you had shields to protect your heart..." Ink murmured, not seeming all that there as he leaned in over the blade to look Cross in the eye. "...but maybe I was wrong. All that good Dream thought was inside you...? Maybe it was a lie. Because I use to say shit like that when I didn't have a soul. Maybe you're being cruel because _you don't have a fucking heart!"_

Cross flinched back, his blade retreating with him. "I-"

Ink only stepped in closer, red fading into a deep, sorrowful blue as he followed Cross' retreat. "We're not done crying yet, Cross. For all we know, neither is Error. Heh, maybe Geno isn't-"

_Fingers curled into his shirt, Geno weakly tugged him closer as he whimpered and cried, "P-please... please, p-please stay. D-don't... don't leave me a-alone. Please, d-don't leave m-me here. H-he'll come back! P-please, C-Cross, he'll come back! Please d-don't leave m-me!"_

At once, Ink and Cross stumbled away from one another, their sockets wide and panicked as they stared each other down.

———

_He's my fucking brother!_ Error wanted to scream. _I love him, you fucker! I love him more than you could ever manage to love anything!_

Sensing his rising anger, Nightmare chuckled. "How pitiful is it that your emotions say more than your mouth can manage? And yet, they tell me so little, too. I sense your anger, Error, but that's not much to go off of. Do you not care about your brother anymore? If you don't, then I'd be happy to let you three go. You could call it a bargain, even. Your freedom for the brother you don't seem to love."

Error reached up to pull down his strings, but Nightmare laughed. “Ah. So you _do_ still care about your weakest link. The fact that you _have_ links…” Nightmare ran a thumb down Geno’s SOUL, thinking. “Of course… Geno’s not **the** weakest link… what’s the name of that… little destroyer? The one you had with your slut? Oh,” his smile turned more cruel. _“Paperjam_ , wasn’t it? How rude of you. You never introduced us.”

———

"I-Ink...!" Reaper stared between the two, sockets wide.

"Wh...what was..." Ink trembled, symbols shifting slowly though it was the _colors_ flashing wildly. "G-Gen-" 

Desperately, Cross tried to get a handle of his emotions. Of his thoughts and memories- 

_"Geno, I'm coming in." Silence greeted the guard, though he still entered the room. The light was on, in the save screen room, but there was no movement. Glancing around, Cross called out, "Geno...?"_

_Just on the edge of the light, the smallest skeleton sat still, thankfully wearing clothes. "Geno." Cross called again, but he didn't respond. Frowning as he approached, Cross knelt by him and hesitantly placed a hand on his shoulder. "Geno?"_

_He felt warm, and his chest still moved as if he were breathing, but his gaze was far away and hollow. There weren't any tears flowing from his sockets. No screams. No flinching. Not even when Cross started to get desperate for a response. He screamed. He clapped in front of the glitched. He paced around. He threw his shoe across his vision. Nothing made him flinch. Tired, Cross sat near him, watching, and… just began talking to him. Something to occupy the silence. **Anything** to occupy the silence._

“Y-you don’t know _anything,”_ Cross hissed, shaken.

“G-Geno…? Where…? Where’s- where is he-?” 

“Gen…?” Reaper’s voice broke slightly. “Ink, hon-?” 

_“I cannot answer that fucking question, artist!”_ Cross finally snapped. “You wanna think I’m a soulless, heartless bastard? Worse than Error? Worse than _you?!_ Do it! But there are certain things I cannot-” He cut himself off, shoulders shaking with the effort to restrain himself. He shut his sockets, shoulders curling inward slightly. “You should be more worried about _me_ and what I’m going to have to report to Nightmare once he’s done with Error.”

“You…” Reaper hesitated. “You’re not a b-bad person, Cross-” 

“Don’t even start with me,” came the bitter words. “You can keep your hope all you want, but-” again, he forced himself to stop. “Just… shut up and wait.” 

Ink stepped forward, “N-no, Geno was- _he was right here-”_

Cross grabbed Ink by the collar and growled, “Geno is _not_ here. **I am.** ”

———

Nightmare spoke over Error's terrified stuttering. "Paperjam." The gentle, soothing tone of his voice was at odds with the nasty gleam in Nightmare's eye. "What a stupid fucking name for a child. That poor thing is going to be bullied ruthlessly, you know? And it'll be all your fault. Or did the artist name him?"

_Face pressed into the middle of his back, Ink gave a happy, muffled sigh as he blindly ran a hand over Error's rounding stomach; too short to see over his shoulder but insistent that he wanted to hold Error and their child from behind. "Aw, they're getting so big~" Ink noted, smile hidden in the back of his hoodie._

_Error scowled, offended by the observation that unintentionally called him fat. "Yeah, we should..." he hesitated. Still unsure that all of this was actually real, that Ink was **here** for them and **happy** , he uncertainly mumbled, "We should think of names."_

_"Ink Junior!"_

_"Wha- **no** , you asshole!"_

_"Error Junior?"_

_"No!"_

_"Marry me?"_

_"No, you idi-" Error froze, his breath lodging itself somewhere in his throat alongside his words. That was... he- choking on every letter, he asked, "Are... are you serious?"_

_Ink's voice was soft, but his words rang clear in Error's ears. "Yeah, Ruru, I am. Marry me. It doesn't have to be now, or anytime soon, but... let's get married. I don't just want to raise a baby with you, Error. I want to **be** with you **and** raise a baby. I want to get the chance to raise a lotta them, one day."_

_Error had to wait until he stopped crying to say 'yes'._

_He had to wait for the euphoria of being engaged to fade to realize they still needed to pick a name._

"You know," Nightmare's voice broke him free of the pleasant memory, "I remember you promising _me_ a child, once. Had I not known better, I would have assumed Paperjam that child."

———

Ink's eyes were too hazy to focus on Cross. _He was here! I... I saw him!_ His thoughts never strayed far from those two statements, his mind going in circles as emotion cycled through his eyes. "Ge...Geno..." he whispered, Cross' words barely registering as he looked around the room in vain.

The name of his first almost physically hurt to hear. "He's not here, hon." Reaper rasped, arms circling Ink from behind and gently pulling him away from Cross' harsh grip on his collar. "Ink, baby, Geno isn't... he isn't here..." 

Trembling, the artist allowed himself to be coaxed back onto his only currently remaining husband's lap. "He's scared, Reaper." He blinked and, just for a second, the small, trembling form of an afterimage could be seen clinging to Cross; painted in the deep hue of sorrow and the icy white of true terror. "Reaps, he's... Geno's so, so _scared..."_

"Listen to the god, artist." Cross growled. "Geno. Isn't. Here."

"Please stop..." Reaper begged in a whisper. "I-Inky, please... just... j-just..." he held him tighter, tucking Ink's head under his chin as he gently rubbed his back. 

Ink fell silent then, gripping Reaper's robes and shivering. He turned slightly to stare at Cross, and the afterimage that... he blinked. _Oh... it is fading..._ The artist's gaze flicked up to Cross, though his expression now was blank. _...I... somehow I was able to see Geno... through Cross...? H-how...?_ He turned and buried his face back into Reaper's chest. _Geno...!_

Cross continued to watch them, jaw clenched, but unwilling to take his eyes off them. 

\------

Error closed his eyes. _Work with it, work with it..._ He stared at the table. "D-don't-" 

"Don't? Oh so you're speaking now?" 

With a sharp inhale and a slow exhale, Error murmured, "Don't hurt them." 

"Them who? Your little harem? Your _spawn?_ Or your wannabe little brother?" With that, he started to press his thumb into Geno's SOUL. 

Error's eyes flashed on him. "Don't hurt _any_ of th-them. You know... y-you know it wAsn'T uS." 

Nightmare smirked. "It's _your_ alarm, is it not?" 

The lack of a lock. The exhaustion before dinner. The extra sleepiness afterward. Even _Ink_ clonking out fairly quickly? No... it's too convenient. "N-nigh-" 

_"Error."_

A glance away. "Boss... p-please..."

"And now you're resorting to _begging?"_ Nightmare stroked the SOUL with his thumb. "Error... you still haven't answered my question on if taking a few pieces from this thing is enough punishment for you!" 

Desperate, Error stumbled forward and dropped his hands onto Nightmare's desk, less to loom over the other and more for the support he desperately needed to keep himself up. "Night, please," he begged, "don't do this. Please, please don't do this."

"Give me a reason not to, lover."

_Lover._

Slowly, his gaze dropped to the sleek wood beneath his palms. _This desk..._ "Don't hurt them," he began, running his fingertips over a dark, faded stain in the wood, "Reaper, Ink... _my brother..._ don't hurt them, Night. If... if you don't, if you drop the punishment you _know_ we don't deserve, then I'll let you fuck me. Right now, on this desk, just like we use to do before."

When the disinterested mask Nightmare wore didn't break, Error's desperation grew.

"I'll get on my knees, if that's what you want instead," he bargained. "Fuck, I- I'll give you whatever you want from me. All day. A-as...as much as you want. However you want me. Please, Night, I... promise you won't punish them, and I'll let you punish _me_ like you liked doing back then."

"...Tempting," Nightmare murmured. "So tempting in fact, that I'll let you and your husbands avoid punishment simply because you've filled my head with such lovely images. Go back to your family, dear, old lover."

Error froze, his heart pounding within his chest. He should have been relieved, but he wasn't. _Something’s wrong. He wouldn't- there's no way he would pass this up!_

"Go on, Error. Shoo." Watching him with a lidded socket, Nightmare grinned, "Your offer is appreciated, but I have someone else in my life to _service_ me as you offered. He'll perform all those lovely suggestions for me in your place."

Pounding heart gone eerily still, Error choked, "W...who...?"

"That's no concern of yours. Leave, Error. Enjoy the punishment you've avoided."

"Nightmare, _who are you talking ab-"_

"Go, or else I'll use one of your husbands in his place." Nightmare growled, leaning up across his desk and nearly brushing their mouths together. "I have someone else to suck me off, Error. I have someone to fuck, too. If you don't leave, then I'll replace them for the night with your artist. Or would you prefer I pull those pretty sounds from your god?"

 _Who is your lover? Who is your lover? Whoisyourloverwhoisitwhoisitwhoisit?!_ "I...I..." Error choked.

"Run, Error," Nightmare whispered, "turn around and run if you want to keep your _husbands_ safe."

———

Equally, Ink stared at him, eye lights wavering, but a stubborn clench in his jaw. Slowly, the words he wasn't listening to sank in, and fear gripped his SOUL. _Cross... C-Cross is gonna get Geno h-hurt...! B-because of me...!_ "D-don't..." he whispered. "P-please, Gen- h-he doesn't deserve this...!"

"Shut up, Ink." 

It was a command, but... the way it was spoken, and with the artist's actual _name,_ it... almost sounded like a plea. It was a little too familiar, and Ink found himself clinging tighter to Reaper to keep the sounds inside. 

Several minutes of silence passed them by, until the three heard familiar footsteps rapidly approaching. Cross got out of the way just as Error burst in the door. His eyes flashed to Cross, Reaper, Ink- _Ink trying to hide in Reaper's arms._

_Cross' still formed blade with black on the tip._

"Error," Cross warned. 

Ignoring his co-second for the moment, Error approached his husbands. "A....ar......a...." 

Gently, Reaper murmured, "Yeah. Cross kept Horror and Killer from seeing us. Um..." he rubbed Ink's arm and glanced to the guard in question before looking back to Error. "We're fine now. It was just a misunderstanding." 

The way Ink seemed to shrink more told Error it was something **more** , but... he glanced to Cross, then pointedly down at the blade. 

As expressionless as ever, Cross let it fade. Though unsure about whatever had Error racing in here in a panic, Cross still ordered, "Take a couple minutes for your injuries then get to the cataloging for the budget. If you finish on time, you'll still have enough time before dinner to shower." 

"C-Cross-" Reaper began. "Cross, w-wait-" 

Cross shut the door on his way out, ignoring the three of them.


	60. Crossroads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cross struggles between morality and duty.

With a barrier between the husbands and himself, the mask shielding his emotions threatened to crumble right then and there, but Cross forced it back in place the moment he felt his cold expression wavering. _Not now, damnit._ It wasn't safe here. Not with the unwilling nightmares whispering to one another just behind the door he stood before.

 _Come on, you idiot. Keep it together,_ he thought, repeating the last three words in his head as he slowly strode down the hall. Teleporting would be quicker, but suspicious. There was little reason to jump throughout the castle in such a manner. Not unless you were in a hurry. _You've never struggled like this before. Don't fuck it up now._

He had no less than five hallways to travel before reaching his destination. Out of the five, two were currently available to the other nightmares, which meant a risk of running into Horror and Killer if they were foolishly brave enough to slack off on their duties even after his interaction with them. Hopefully they weren't, because Cross wasn't sure he could handle their personalities right now.

_If they're actually training End..._

With forcefully calm steps, Cross took a detour to the main kitchen and swiped a pack of pudding along with a plastic spoon. Horror would notice, but this wouldn't be the first time Cross took out his irritation through chocolate theft. No one would notice anything amiss. _Hopefully._

Stolen bounty in hand, he made his way to the dark, lonely room hidden in a quiet hall of the castle. "Geno..." he murmured, Ink's desperate call of the glitch's name echoing in his head. Knocking pointlessly, he announced himself with a quiet, "It's Cross," before stating his intent to enter as he pushed open the door.

No voices or movement greeted him, but that only served to chip more at Cross' hastily reinforced shield. He shut the door behind himself and wandered further in until he found Geno. "I brought you a snack," the guard murmured. 

No response. 

He tried not to take it to heart. Instead, he sat down in front of the glitch, holding the pudding. "They're... stars... I think they're okay. A prank was pulled on them but they were asked to continue their chores." He stared down at the spoon, seeing his reflection. 

Geno barely blinked. He was lost in his own head. Had been for a few days now. It worried him to no end when it first happened, but now, it just... 

Anger? Sadness? Conflict? Perhaps all three, and perhaps that was why he still hadn't opened the pudding yet. 

Cross could see his expression cracking in the inverted reflection of the spoon. He could see it crumble with the first tears. He made no sounds as he let them flow. Instead, he stared up at the single, flickering light and cursed his cowardice. He cursed his lack if strength to stand up for the husbands. He cursed his lack of knowledge regarding what Nightmare's fucking plans were. And he cursed himself another time for not leaving with Error. 

But there was little he could do now, except try to take care of the glitch who stopped caring for himself.

With a sniff, he blinked the next wave of tears from his sockets and didn't bother wiping the wet trails from his face. What was the point in doing so when more would just fall? 

"I hope you like chocolate..." he murmured while he peeling the lid from the cup of pudding. Had the snack been meant for him, he would have simply licked the residue left on the plastic clean, but he took special care in scraping the pudding off with the spoon. Not only did it remove the risk of leaving evidence behind, but it meant that much more food for Geno, too. "...I wish I asked you _before_ all this. You liked the pocky though, so hopefully you don't mind this. It's... soup isn't as easy to pass off swiping. Maybe I can take some time and make you a...milkshake...?" he asked, trying not to cringe.

If he tried hard enough, Cross could almost trick himself into believing the silence between them was companionable. 

"And, um, sorry again, Geno." he apologized right before prodding the edge of the spoon at the unseen seal of Geno's smile. With a bit of force, he managed to pry the glitch's mouth open and pressed the chocolaty spoonful into the other skeleton's mouth. It felt...wrong. Invasive. 

It was the only way beyond offering magic that he could ensure Geno wouldn't wither away.

Reflexively, the gltich's mouth sealed around the spoon and, once removed, none of the pudding remained; greedily absorbed by starved magic through the instinctively formed tongue in the other's mouth. 

_Thank stars for weird skeleton biology..._ Cross mused, smile sad and a little uncomfortable as he repeated the process again. "I hope this helps, Geno. I... I really do." It was cruel of Nightmare not to adjust the other's meals for his current state.

_"Maybe you're being cruel because you don't have a fucking heart!"_

Cross flinched back at the echo of Ink's voice.

Maybe... maybe to some degree, the artist was right...? Maybe he was just.... _pretending_ to care? Slowly, he gave Geno another spoonful. 

Maybe he should just _let himself be-_

No. 

_No, I can't. I can't sink to Nightmare's level. Kill people? Steal things? Easy. I've done it before. But mind games..? Punishments...?_ He frowned, looking to Geno. _...whatever Nightmare's doing to Geno...? No, I can't be that cruel..._

_"Geno is not here. **I am."**_

Cross tightened his grip on the spoon and pudding cup slightly. _Dammit, but that was a mind game, wasn't it...? A trick, to try and get them to behave until Error came back...?_

"Fuck," he whispered. The injuries the artist already sported... they were worse because of his blade. It isn't like Cross' blades were special. Just condensed magic in the shape of a blade. But now he had to figure out the reason why he pierced Ink's chest, in case Nightmare asked. He sighed, "Your husbands aren't the _smartest_ but... they care so much about you... it's almost scary how much they care."

_Wide, wet sockets meet his eyes warily, scared in a way that Cross has never known they could be. They're the same height, but looking at him now... Stars, he seems so much smaller. Unfairly frail with the way ugly marks make him look so beaten._

_"C...Cr...oss..."_

_It's almost frightening how badly he wants to hold the very same asshole he was bickering with not even three hours ago._

"...I think I get it though." He admits, cheeks flushing with embarrassment and a hint of shame. "I... there was someone I wanted to protect once too. I still do, if I'm honest." He hasn't stopped crying, but the tears are easy to ignore even as they blur his vision while he feeds the glitch. The way his voice cracks, however? That startles him. "That idiot makes it so _hard."_

_Error snarled, "Fucking listen to me, Nightmare!"_

Chuckling weakly, Cross tried to speak around his clogging throat. "Your brother is such an idiot, Geno. I... I promise I won't let it get him killed though, okay? I promise-" he tried to fight a sob, "I promise I'll try to do a better job watching over him than I did with you. The others, too. I... I owe you that much..."

 _Dangerous dangerous dangerous..._ These were.... these thoughts could put him in a _precarious_ position, if he were- actually, no. He shuddered, allowing himself another several more tears. _Death would be welcome if Nightmare ever found out about... well, **any** of it…_

"Well, it's simple, isn't it...?" Another spoonful. "Just keep my shields up." Spoonful. "Continue following and giving orders." Spoon. "Just..." Spoonful. He scraped at the cup, offering the last bits to Geno before pocketing the cup and the spoon. 

He sighed, thinking about how fucking _stubborn_ the husbands are... "They're not going to make this easy on me, huh, Geno...?" He wiped his tears and leaned back on his hands. "That doesn't mean I'm going to go back on my promise to you." His voice softened as his gaze went distant. "This just means I have to be extra careful..." He sighed again, wearily, and covered his face with one hand. "Dammit..."

A small noise just barely reached his nonexistent ears. High pitched and drawn out, the noise was almost kitten-like with the way it could have been considered a mewl. But it wasn't. 

That was a sound of discomfort. _Of pain._

"G-Geno?!" Cross gasped, hand dropping from his face as his attention jumped to the glitch seated just before him. No response, but his eyes-

They were looking at Cross. No, not just _looking_ , but _seeing_. Acknowledging that he was there.

"Geno," he breathed, torn between concern and relief. This was- stars, it had been _days_ since Geno last met his eyes with a look of aware-

"C...C...s....?" Geno choked out, trying for his name but failing.

For a brief moment, the relief won. With it, elation flooded Cross. "Ge-"

And then...

Geno.

Began.

To.

**S c r e a m.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY HALLOWEEN
> 
> PLEASE BE SAFE, Y'ALL


	61. A Last Supper, of sorts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the end is Nigh(t)!

This last week has been... 

Horrible. 

More chores, duller than the last, seemed to drag each minute of the husbands' time until they were ready to throttle someone. An entire week since Horror and Killer fucked with their alarm and made them fear for Geno, and Cross' hardened exterior. 

They had two more training days with the new second. He'd seemed.... colder. More distant. The only time he looked them in the sockets was to give orders. 

Ink still found himself staring at the guard, wondering about Geno, but... well, they weren't allowed to ask. 

Three sharp knocks sounded, and Cross invited himself in, dragging with him three sets of clothes. "These are to be worn at the dinner tonight. Be ready within the next fifteen minutes." He turned back to the door and paused. "There will be a... special event after dinner. You each have a set of clothes for it." 

Once he shut the door, Error ripped into the covered hangers and found... 

_"Fuck."_

"Ru? What is it?" 

"He's giving us white pants and a T-shirt for the special event. He's gonna have us spar." Error tightened his grip on the clothes his size. _But why...?! Who??_

Reaper brushed a hand over the leg of the pants meant for him. _Soft, flexible..._ the ridge of his nasal cavity scrunched slightly. _...and **white.**_ Glancing at the shirt, his distaste grew upon seeing the color. Green like Nightmare's magic, but lighter. Pastel, almost. _If we get wounded, it'll show easily. These colors won't hide blood._ There was a reason beyond personal preference that he wore black to work. Hiding stains was one.

Ink bypassed the snowy pants in favor of grabbing his own shirt. Like Reaper's, it was a pastel version of Nightmare's magic. _...He'll notice…_ Ink realized, staring at the white and green together. _If I end up with out of place wounds, Nightmare will notice._ Especially with just how dark his blood was.

"I don't like this." Shrugging off his shirt and pants, Error slid into the provided clothing and shuddered as the light material settled against his bones. _Airy, easy to move in..._ "Fuck, I really, _really_ don't this. Nightmare doesn't host _special events_ without a good reason. Usually, it's because people pissed him off, but we haven't done anything!"

They couldn't even muster the hope that it wouldn't be anything. Dread settled down, making the clothes feel like lead. Ink tried to block out his husbands' fears so he could banish his own, but... 

_Fuck! What did they do...?! Their alarm was changed the one time? They got angry a couple other times, but didn't really do anything about it?_

"Let's just get this bullshit over with..." Ink muttered. "It's the last day. We eat, we fight, we take Geno home, and I burn every single white and green shit we have at home..." 

Reaper chuckled a little, leaning over and pressing a kiss to his artist's temple. "I hope it works out like that..." 

_Hope..._ Error tied the strings on his pants tighter and checked for- yep. Sandals that're easy to take off. _Hope's just going to hurt us more than it hurts him..._ Not words that would help his husbands, but still... 

Exactly fifteen minutes passed when Cross gave his classic three sharp knocks before walking in. He wore a set of clothes eerily similar to the husbands, though his was a nearly pastel green tank top instead of a shirt. Even the style of sandal was the same. "Let's go." 

By this point, everyone knew it was single-file, no touching, no talking. They made it to the dining room, with Endure, Killer and Horror all in similar clothes. A pastel green shirt, white pants, sandals. They all stood behind their seats at the table, though nobody spoke. The air was heavy with... uncertainty? Tension? Even Killer and Horror were keeping their smartass comments to themselves for once. 

_I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate this-_ Error turned his attention to the door, half expecting Nightmare to appear with the same clothes- 

The asshole was wearing his finest threads. 

_So... this special event is for his viewing pleasure...?_ Error clenched his fists at his sides. _Stars dammit..._

"Good evening, nightmares," The king of the castle greeted, dressed regally in clothing that only complimented the self appointed title. As he made his way to the head of the table in a slow stride, the fine cloak he wore around his shoulders flared out behind him, the expensive golden lining of the collar glinting in the candlelight alongside the polished circlet he wore. "I'm pleased to see you're all dressed and on time. Tardiness is inexcusable on such an exciting day."

"Good evening, Nightmare." Cross greeted in return, speaking on behalf of the group of nightmares, both willing and not. Bowing his head respectfully, he waited until the leader took his seat at the head of the table before requesting, "May we be seated, my king?"

 _My king...?_ By now, both of Error's husbands were well aware of Nightmare's dramatics, but neither of them had enough experience with Nightmare's favorite title to know that it wasn't one used often. When angry, Nightmare liked to toss around reminders that he was their king, but he didn't demand being addressed as such outside of what he deemed special occasions. _Fuck, this... this isn't just a normal special event, is it?_

"You may," the lord of despair allowed, a look of approval in his eye at Cross' manner of asking for permission. Allowing them all a few moments to seat themselves and grow comfortable, Nightmare waited just until the last of the shuffling ended before curling his fingers around the stem of a wine glass. "Before we begin today's feast, I'd like to make an announcement, if you all don't mind."

With a smile in place, Nightmare slid his gaze around the table to ensure no one looked ready to issue a complaint of him stalling their dinner yet again with a toast. When even Killer remained silent and docile, alarm bells began blaring in an already unnerved Error's head.

"Ah, thank you for your silence. I promise I'll only be a moment or two." White smile widening, the king of the castle straightened in his seat. "Although the feast prepared for us today is expected to be quite delicious, I recommend that no one gorge themselves today. Doing so may put you at a severe disadvantage later. With that said, you may now eat." Lifting his glass in a small gesture of cheers, Nightmare grinned. "Enjoy."

When the covers lifted, the trio of husbands froze. After a month of surviving this hell, surprise shouldn't have come as easily as it did at that moment, yet it was hard to shake their shock when their favorite meals were revealed on the uncovered plates.

Various pastas and meat dishes filled the plates before them. 

_What is this, a last meal...?_ Error watched Nightmare from the corner of his socket. _No... it can't be... he's... he can't be planning a death match, right...? Doesn't he usually plan those before a dinner...?_ But Error was having trouble remembering, what with the severe panic and and shock and unnerving sense of dread. 

Nightmare turned that horrible grin on him, though took a bite of his food instead of offering the destroyer words. 

Slowly, each member did the same, trying to savor their foods instead of think about- 

Ink froze in his seat, a bite of his dinner in his mouth. _That... that warm red..._ His lights dropped down to the rice. He... wasn't sure... it was almost exactly like- 

_Tender seasoned meat that practically fell apart on his tongue, the subtle flavor of rice, the fresh vegetables..._

The meat of his meal now wasn't as tender or as delicately seasoned as when Geno made it, and the vegetables were a little soggier than he liked, but... 

_And throughout it all, a pleasant, stomach-warming **spice.** Red, he decided, smiling as he swallowed. The rusty red that didn't have enough power in it to make him angry, but always managed to dance across his taste buds-_

....Geno's... Geno's recipe.... down to the paints Ink used for flavors and snacks... he shuddered against the wave of sickening fear and nostalgia, squeezing his eyes shut. Tears still fell, though he'd tried his **damnedest** to stop them. 

Reaper moved to console him, but a glance from Error had him keeping his attention on his own plate. _Shit.... **shit**..._ Reaper had recognized that plate from when Geno was trying to cheer Ink up.

Trying to work through the sudden unsteady shakiness of his hands, the god sampled the home-cooked meal for himself only for tears of his own to burn his eyes. _It's good, but..._

Like Ink, all it took was a single spoonful of the meal to pick out the subtle differences between Horror's preparation and Geno's, but the end result was _just_ similar enough to his first's cooking that he could close his eyes and almost imagine Geno there; dressed in the silly apron Reaper once got him as a gift and watching them like hawks to see if they liked their meals.

Swallowing the mouthful, Reaper slid open the sockets he didn't actually remember closing and went for another bite. _It's not the same, but it's close enough. Even if-_

"Geno's is better."

Horror's fork snapped in half, emphasized by two small clinks as the metal pieces fell against the table. "...Excuse me?" he growled, overblown eye sliding across the table to glare at Error.

Eyes on the spoonful of meat and race balanced on the utensil hovering just over his plate, Error repeated his statement; voice quiet but sure as he mumbled, "Geno's is better." Seeming to come to a conclusion to an internal debate he was having, he lifted his gaze and glared back at Horror with conviction in his eyes. "The meat is dry, the seasoning isn't as bold, _and_ you left the vegetables stewing for too long." he listed, practically calling out Ink's earlier observations of the food. "If he made this, all you would have to do is nudge it with a spoon and the meat would fall apart _perfectly."_

Anger not his own filled Ink at Error's audacity, but spite and satisfaction made it so much easier to fight off. _Geno didn't just **add** my paints,_ he recalled, _he learned the flavors I associated with the colors._ And that made all the difference. Even if Ink hadn't originally known what Geno was doing, the glitch had taken special care to ensure to that the colors he used in Ink's meals would compliment the dishes. That took time. Observation.

_Love._

"Geno's is better." he agreed.

Reaper smiled around his next spoonful. "Geno's is _much_ better."

From his position at the head of the table, Nightmare cleared his throat just as Horror looked about ready to lunge at them with the jagged end of his broken fork in hand. "Calm yourself, Horror. If you're lucky, you'll have your opportunity to enact revenge for your broken pride _after_ the meal. For now, sit down and continue your meal." He turned a smile to the trio of husbands. "I'll be sure to pass your compliments onto darling Genocide."

 _Right.... they're still in this shithole. With no real guess as to what this maniac is planning..._ Error held in a sigh and continued the food. 

Ink and Reaper did the same. Just because Geno's was _better_ didn't exactly mean Horror's version was bad. His just... didn't have the same amount of care put into it. Though Ink found that, in places, the red paint spice was too much, and he had to take several more sips of water. 

At the other end of the table, Cross observed each of them silently. The willing nightmares, the husbands, even Nightmare himself, though Cross tried not to let himself spend too much time watching his boss. It could seem suspicious. 

Endure didn't seem to have any reactions to his dish, and Killer liked whatever Horror made. 

"Tch," Horror scowled, picking up his now-smaller fork to continue eating.

No matter how pleasing the meal, none of the individual groups forming the nightmares could forget the advice Nightmare gave about going overboard with the meal. If sparring was the main event, then having a full stomach...

Around the same time, everyone began pushing their incomplete meals away. Reaper, requiring less food than others, was the first to do so followed by Cross who knew his own limits well. Error, Ink, Endure... eventually, Killer and Horror did the same until the only one continuing with their meal was Nightmare who seemed intent of making his way through his meal at a slow, leisurely pace. 

Every few bites, he would pause to color his pleasant smile wine red. "Are you all waiting on me?" he questioned after the third or so pause to savor his selection of the evening. 

Similar to before, Cross took to answering for the group. "Yes, my king, but the wait is no trouble. We'll continue with the night's events at your pace."

 _He **has** to be showing off. The clothes, the title... he's playing up his position. Error just didn't know why._ That uncertainty was starting to drive him insane.

Setting down his fork, Nightmare looked over his leftovers and tapped his finger against his wine glass in consideration. "...Horror, bring me a dessert to the throne room. Select a wine that pairs well with whatever you decide. The rest of you," he grinned, "let's take a walk there together."

Horror rose from his space, bowing to him, murmuring, "Yes, my king." He turned and walked into the kitchen with surprising grace for someone who usually was held up by his axe or was otherwise stumbling with sleep. 

Nightmare rose from his seat and began walking to the throne room. Cross rose too, nodding to each member one by one, and they too stood to follow Nightmare, pushing their chairs in like children in a classroom. 

Error was the first to follow Nightmare, with the willing and unwilling nightmares between each other, until Cross took up the rear to make sure they stayed in line. 

Unseen by those behind him, Nightmare's smile grew. _Such a good line of little ducklings..._ He paused in front of the throne room doors, and it took Error a split second to remember to walk around him and open them for him. He just barely remembered to bow too as Nightmare sauntered inside.

Upon entering the throne room behind the king, Ink and Reaper found themselves thrown by the adjustments made to the large, extravagant room. Gone were the fine decorations and the oversized table never once used for their meals. In place of the items removed from the room; however, there was a large, bloodstained mat rolled across a majority of the fine flooring. 

_Foam?_ Ink guessed, unsure of the real material but taking note of the slight give beneath his feet.

Walking behind his artistic husband, Reaper eyed the stains. _Red...purple..._ his eyes lingered on a blue splotch, unsure if the color was Error's. _Have... have I ever even seen him bleed...?_

Silence also greeted them in the unnerving way that such a spacious room does. Unsurprisingly, the throne itself was still there, and Nightmare nearly made a show of sitting down in it. Taking hints from the two seconds, and unfortunately the willing nightmares, the husbands stood shoulder to shoulder in front of their king and waited, gazes downcast. 

Nightmare, too, waited until his seconds were bookending the members. He waited still, until Horror appeared, walking forward with a tray of gold, a single slice of brownie, a bottle of Merlot wine, and a single, clean wine glass. He presented the tray to the king, and opened the bottle one-handed, pouring it for him. 

As the king plucked the dessert and glass of wine from the tray, he addressed the whole room. "I'm sure most of you have guessed our special event for tonight. And believe me, it's _quite_ special." He sampled the Merlot, humming with satisfaction, before looking to the line in front of him. "Cross." 

Cross stepped forward, "My king." He turned slightly towards the others. "Tonight's event will be a... demonstration of skill with the nightmare's weakest weapon. If one of you new and returned nightmares," he turned his gaze to the husbands, "win, you get the rights to take Geno home. But if one of _us_ win," he motioned to the willing nightmares, including himself, "then you must swear your whole selves to Nightmare and his cause, or face a fate worse than..." his gaze slid to Reaper, "Death." 

_Unlikely_ , Reaper bit back the retort. With what they’ve put them through for this past month, keeping Geno away for so long, Reaper wasn’t planning on letting them off so easily. 

After a slight pause to allow everything to sink in, Cross continued, "As long standing members know, usually an event such as this would feature multiple matches in order to showcase everyone's skill. Instead of following that tradition, it's been decided by that only one match will be held."

 _One match?!_ That was-!

When three angry set of eyes glared up at him, Nightmare smiled; the curve of his blindingly white teeth clear as day through the crystal-like material of his wine glass. _One fight, **one** chance to win back your husband,_ they practically heard him purr.

"The participants of the match will be chosen at random, though names will be drawn from two separate list to ensure that we have a fighter representing both old and new members. If you are selected, then you fight. No arguing or attempting to get out of the match. Any questions before the names are drawn?"

_Weakest weapon, huh?_

"And what if one of us doesn't have a weakest weapon?" Killer growled, shooting a glare to the artist, of which he ignored. 

"Then the King will decide on the weapon," Cross answered. His gaze flicked to each of theirs. "Any other questions?" 

Error narrowed his sockets. _Home, huh...? We've almost made it home..._

When nobody else spoke up, Cross turned to Nightmare, bowing his head slightly and stepping back into the line. Horror brought over a small table and set the tray down in order to stand in the line with the rest of them. Lazily, one of Nightmare's tendrils pulled a bisected box from next to his throne onto his lap. He held his food in two of his other tendrils as he dug a hand into one side of the box. 

"Our first fighter will be... Reaper, Elder God of Death. Step forward." 

Though unusual for him, the god's emotions became a whirling mess, until determination flooded everything aside. He took a deep breath and a single step forward, standing tall.

Wicked excitement filled Nightmare's smile, but whatever words he so eagerly wanted to share with the god were kept to himself for the moment. Instead, he reached his hand into the other side of the box and pulled out another slip. Unfolding it, he hummed with interest, socket on the blank slip of paper in his hand. 

"...How interesting." he murmured, smile widening into a smirk as he crumbled the bit of paper. "Our second fighter in the match will be none other than my most loyal second, Cross."

Said skeleton's gaze snapped to Nightmare, a look of surprise in his sockets as he stared up at the regal leader seated on the throne. _My name isn't supposed to be in there._ The clothing he wore was no different than the others nightmares' apparel, _but that was for show._ "Nightmare-"

"Address me correctly."

"...My king," he corrected himself, head bowed both in respect and to hide his conflicted eyes, "are you sure of this match? You-" _said you wouldn't add my name_ "know that I'm responsible for most of the training that takes place. I wouldn't want to bore you if my experience with the god proves to be poor entertainment."

Returning the box back to the side of the throne, the king of the castle chuckled, "Are you trying to get out of this fight, Cross? Even though you just informed the others that attempting to do so is not allowed?"

"...No, my king." Cross murmured.

"Good, because I'm actually rather excited for this match. You see, watching you and the god battle...?" Bringing his glass to his mouth, Nightmare paused to savor his drink with a quiet, pleased hum, his eye glinting with a satisfaction that went beyond enjoying the wine. "It's almost... poetic, I suppose you could say. The original lover of darling little Genocide battling the ally who betrayed him by-" chuckling, he stopped there. "Oh, but you don't know that part yet, god."

Cross was able to hold his tension from visibly showing, but the husbands were not. Reaper balled his fists together. "...What are you implying... my king?" the words were just _barely_ said without a growl, though Nightmare noticed the slight hesitation before his title. 

He swirled his drink, seeming to consider telling Reaper what he wanted to know. His gaze lifted to the others. "None of you are to interfere with the fight as it goes. The fight will continue until one of you admits defeat, or dies."

 _And I can't die_ , Reaper thought, the dark pools of his eyes deepening until it looked as if unending shadow of a void was all that made up his stare. "Understood." he growled, unnervingly empty sockets now on Cross.

Meeting Reaper's stare with perfectly concealed dread, Cross bowed his head once and murmured his own quiet, "Understood," before turning back to Nightmare. "The final orders, my king?"

Poison shaped into a single eyelight gleamed. "Retrieve your weapons from the rack concealed behind my throne. After you do so, take your positions on the mat and await the signal to start. Nightmares," he turned to look at the others, "come. Seat yourselves at my side."

Ink tried to give Reaper an encouraging smile, though it wasn't easy. This was _Geno_. Reaper wasn't going to give up. He wouldn't _ever_ give up. 

Cross knew it too, but king's orders... He wondered how much he could take from the god. He wondered where between admitting defeat and dying he could get, and still keep his pride or his title as Nightmare's _most loyal second._

The others seated themselves on either side of Nightmare, with the husbands avoiding the other nightmares as much as they could. Reaper and Cross exchanged another glance before walking around the throne and retrieving their weapons. A double-edged glaive for the god, and a halberd for the second. 

_They still think this one is my weakest...?_ Reaper weighed the glaive in his hands for a moment. _Well, that's okay._ Together, god and second walked back out to the mat, taking their sandals off before stepping bare-foot on the stained material. 

Ink fidgeted in his seat. From where he was sat, between Error and Nightmare, it would be apparent to both if any injuries were to appear on him. _And if Reaper won't stop until he wins..._ he cut that thought off and folded his hands in his lap.

Legs crossed and head propped up against one of his palms, Nightmare lifted his glass in the direction of the two opponents. "Cheers." he murmured, soon returning the glass to his smile. 

No ready, set, go. No command. Just that simple, easily overlooked _"Cheers"._

Before Reaper could realize he missed the signal to begin, Cross was already in his face with the sharpened, pointed end of the halberd aimed at his chest.


	62. The Special Event

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there's a fight for freedom and a victory in someone's favor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger Warning** : Violence

_"Shit!"_ Reaper hissed, side-stepping as fast as he could. He tried to trip Cross, but the second saw it coming. Instead, he stopped and whirled the blade back at Reaper. 

The god blocked it with the pole of his glaive and shoved him away. 

Didn't do much good, since Cross decided to form his ecto and the added mass didn't let Cross budge much. Still, Reaper gave himself an extra few steps of space- 

Immediately stolen by Cross, who lunged, swinging the pole-side low. Reaper stabbed one end of the glaive into the ground, halting the motion and unintentionally cutting off a few inches of the pole. Both blinked in surprise at the now shortened weapon in Cross' hands. 

Ink and Error felt something ice their bones. _Those.... those are **sharpened** weapons... _

Killer grinned. "Ah good, they're working _perfectly!"_

Error's head snapped in his direction, but he didn't dare keep his gaze from the ongoing battle for more than a few seconds. "That kind of sharpness is excessive even for you." he said, worry making his dark, growling tone waver.

Killer's response fell on deaf ears when Cross, regaining his bearings, kicked the broken piece up off the ground, drawing Reaper's attention _just_ long enough to distract him from the way Cross' body began angling to the right. Just as the second made to step around him, the god's attention returned to his opponent and he reacted accordingly by twisting himself to cut off Cross' approach.

At the last second, the halberd wielding skeleton darted left instead, taking Reaper by surprise and slamming the shortened pole into Reaper's side. When the god stumbled, off-balanced and impacted by the pain, he spun on his heel and drove his leg into the same place his weapon hit; successfully sending Reaper off to the side with a soft yet somehow echoing crack.

Ink breathed in sharply, the sound luckily masked as worry and covering his pain as two of his ribs began screaming at him in agony. _One's broken, the other is cracked,_ but both hurt.

Unfortunately, the same was true for Reaper who was sprawled on his back, a hand clutching at the wound. Cross was already moving in, but he seemed too dazed by the pain to react, his sockets shut as he suffered the terrible ache.

Nightmare sighed, his previous expression replaced with boredom. "Is that all you have to offer, god? Shame. I would have thought to see more fight from you when facing the man who placed his hands on your love. Or," he chuckled, "is it something you all share? The fate of ending up on your backs before my second-"

Just as Cross stood over him with his halberd in hand and stabbing down towards Reaper's still form, the god disappeared. 

_Fuck, that was a tra-_

And with a loud animalistic screech, Reaper reappeared.

Right.

Behind.

Cross.

 **"What did you do?!"** he demanded, voice high and shrill as he slammed his heel into Cross' lumbar.

 _Nothing!_ Cross wanted to snarl back. He crashed to the floor, but managed to keep with the momentum until he was rolled back up on his feet. He whirled around, the weapon in hand- 

CRACK! 

Reaper sliced up, and the halberd was split in half from the glaive's strike. Cross spared a moment to glance at Nightmare, to see the glint of dark amusement in his eye that was easily covered with the rest of his expression. _Bastard._ As Reaper brought the other side of the glaive to his face, Cross pitched himself backwards in a move that kicked the god up from the chin. 

He wouldn't rest. _"Answer me!"_

"This is a _fight_ , not a _conversation,"_ Cross held each side of his weapon in hand, sockets narrowed on the god. 

Naturally, his response pissed him off more. Memories of watching Ink beat the shit out of Killer filled Reaper's mind with the rage his artist had stolen from him. Images of Geno, hurt, bleeding, _scared_ accompanied by the cold exterior of Nightmare's new second, and all the god could see was him. His target. 

His next mark. 

His next _kill._

Cross _knew_ he was going to go in for a straight-up attack. _Obviously_. The god was too enraged to think logically, even with his however many years of living. He centered his weight low and- 

Reaper dodged to one side. 

Cross turned to counter- 

And Reaper swiped the glaive the opposite way, earning an immediate and _deep_ scratch across Cross' chest. 

Ink grit his teeth and leaned forward slightly, trying to prevent his own inky blood from seeping into the shirt. _F-Fuck...!_

At the subtle movement, Error glanced him worriedly before risking a small peek at Nightmare. _He's not looking, but..._ there was no way Nightmare couldn't feel Ink's pain. It was emotional, but past experience informed him that physical pain was close enough to Nightmare's brand of negativity that it could be sensed. _Why isn't he-_

Without turning to meet his stare, Nightmare murmured, "Watch, _Ruru_. It seems as though things are truly heating up between those two."

 _...He... he's **interested.**_ The realization sat well with Error just about as well a spoiled meal.

Purple bled into the pastel of Cross' ruined tank top, spreading in a large, ugly stain as the fabric soaked up his marrow. _Fuck!_ It burned. Worryingly enough, he was sure the deepest portion of the wound was almost enough to nearly slice a few ribs in two. _If I get hit, they'll break._

But it was fine. Cross dealt with worse. Hell, some of that "worse" was given to him by the very boss that kept fanning the flames of Reaper's rage. _I can handle this,_ he decided, hands tight around his halved weapon as he fended off another attack. _I don't have much a choice, though, do I?_

"I said _ans-"_

With his weapon in it's current state, Cross was able to get in so much closer than before with two easier to wield weapons to boot. Reaper, stuck with one, was able to defend himself against the bladed portion but was left helpless against the broken, short polearm in his other. Although a hand came up to catch it, it do too late and Reaper stumbled back with a muffled shout as the polearm landed a hit that nearly severed his tongue by snapping his mouth closed.

Spitting blood off to the side, he screeched and lunged back in again, determined to repay Cross for the new wound in the second's own blood. _Tell me what you did!_ he wanted to demanded.

Instead, another loud, angry noise left him when he was blocked.

Block, distance themselves, dive in, parry... with Reaper's maddening anger, there was little pattern in their movements to call their battle a dance. Some movements were similar, but the god's rage left him predictable in some ways and entirely impossible to predict in others.

 _I have to get in closer than he does to attack,_ Cross thought, ducking under a vicious slash and bending backwards just enough to where he wasn't unbalanced, but still avoided the other end of the glaive when it was spun around for a second attack. _Whenever I do, my hits land more often than his._ But getting closer at all was a risk.

When Nightmare made a show of yawning, Cross decided he would have to take it. _If I don't perform well enough, Nightmare might prevent me from forfeiting..._

He eyed the god's weapon. If the glaive was _that_ sharp, surely the halberd was too? _And if I want to get closer..._

Reaper swung the glaive down towards his head- 

Cross side-stepped, letting the glaive hit the floor, then sliced the halberd down on it, perfectly slicing the weapon in two. Reaper stumbled forward, earning him an elbow to the face. Cross swiped his foot to the side, unbalancing Reaper even further before punching his sternum. 

The god stumbled backwards, wheezing slightly as the realization that the fractured rib had broke sunk in. 

Cross wandered over to the abandoned half of the glaive, tossing aside his blunt pole in favor of the glaive. He flipped the two weapons in his hands, noting how much lighter the glaive was than the halberd. He faced Reaper, dropping his center of weight again. "I may have achieved first bone, but you achieved first blood. Not bad for someone who doesn't need to fight." 

"I thought you said this wasn't a **conversation** ," Reaper snarled, lunging forward with his only glaive half. 

Cross smirked, ducking and wincing at the strain on his- 

Reaper's knee slammed into his sternum- 

_C-C-C-RACK_

Ink covered his mouth, seeming to wince at the noise, though inky blood started to drip from his own mouth. 

Cross coughed wetly, and a splatter of purple stained both Reaper's and his own clothes. He stumbled backwards, growling. _Focus! Focus dammit, or he's going to kill you!_

_But wouldn't I deserve it...? For letting all that shit happen to Error? For doing nothing while the same thing was probably happening to Geno?_

A flash of silver had Cross slicing the two weapons in front of him, effectively cutting the head off Reaper's last glaive. Instead of looking upset, the god growled, "Hand to weapon, huh? _**I c a n w o r k w i t h t h a t."**_

Breathing heavily through the pain in his chest, Cross threw all possible responses to the side and forced himself forward, further into Reaper's space. Half heartedly, the god lifted what was now a very short polearm to meet his neck slash with and tossed the small, broken piece he was left with aside once it was cut through. _Preventing it from being used later?_

Smart, but foolish. No matter what confidence Reaper had in hand to hand, he was still putting himself at a disadvantage by facing Cross' blade with no weaponry of his own.

"Forfeit," Cross demanded, bloody spittle flying from his mouth as he growled the words.

Within the sound of Reaper's laughter, a thousand screams could be heard, melding together to form a warped, demented sound that barely passed as a noise of humor. "If I forfeit, I damn the people I love." 

Hidden beneath the fabric of his pants, the muscle of Cross' legs hinted at the lunge he was preparing to make. _I know, but I can't let him think I plan to lose._ Knowing Reaper was watching for the slightest hint of movement, he threw caution to the wind and shot forward, getting in as close as was required for the-

Blood welled from the deep groove now cut into Ink's left palm. 

Sockets wide, Cross swung the glaive only for that to be caught too.

As the blade bit into Reaper's hand, another deep cut split the bones forming Ink's right palm.

"I don't know what you did to Geno..." Reaper murmured, blank, empty sockets boring deep into Cross' own. When he blinked, a tear fell from his socket- No, not... not tears. A thick, black substance that looked like tar. 

_Hate, like the liquid that poured from Killer's sockets._

"...but..." the god continued, fingers gripping the blades jammed into his palms too tightly for Cross to pull them free. "...I won't let you hurt him anymore. I'm going to take him home," he promised, more liquid hate dripping down his face, "...I just **n e e d t o t a k e y o u o u t f i r s t."**

But he didn't yank the weapons from Cross to use at his own.

He didn't toss them away, either.

Instead, Reaper gripped tighter and tighter until the blades began to brea- no, but they weren't breaking.

"W-what the fuck?!" Killer hissed, scrambling back slightly.

Starting from the points where metal met the god's hands, the blades were corroding. Before everyone's eyes, rust spread across the metal, coloring the broken weaponry an orangish-red before breaking away in small chips. 

Quickly, Cross let go and put a good deal of distance between himself and the god, but it didn't matter. Calmly, slowly, Reaper trailed after him with measured steps that ate through the material of the plush mat beneath his feet. "You know," he whispered, his soft voice somehow echoing all around, "it isn't just Life's creations that I end. While those die with the lightest touch from my hands, they're not the only things with an **e n d**. Metal, wood... given enough time, nearly everything decays. And what is decay but an element of _**D e a t h**?"_ he hissed, the ground all around him rotted and black.

Seated on his throne, Nightmare leaned forward with a wide, interested eye trained on Reaper's back.

Ink stared in dismay at the inky blood he could no longer hide that pooled in his hands. _Reaps...! Reaper what are you doing...?!_

 _It would be a slow death... painful... probably full of all sorts of horrible ways to die...._ Cross didn't dare turn his back on his combat partner, though he still tried to keep some distance between them. _He reaps those SOULs that die a horrible or violent end, and that's probably what awaits me... some sick combination of all those violent ends…_ He narrowed his sockets and stopped his retreat. 

Reaper paused slightly, anger flashing in his sockets at the apparent lack of fear in his opponent. He continued to advance- 

A flash of red slashed it's way across Reaper's hand, passing through the bones. It almost felt like he was cut, but all that was left was an uncomfortable sensation. When the god focused his gaze back on Cross... the other held a red blade- 

Black bubbles drifting along the edge of the blade itself. "You wanted to fight hand to weapon? Here you go." 

"What did you-" 

Cross lunged forward, slicing the blade diagonally up across Reaper's shirt- 

From the cut, decay ate away at the fabric. 

Lowly, the god chuckled, "So you wanted to see me shirtless that bad, huh? Very well." He ripped the rest of the fabric away, revealing a fairly toned body that almost made Cross lose his footing. In terms of strength, the god didn't look all that strong. Maybe a little too thin, but the muscle was still _there._

 _But, damn..._ Error grit his teeth at how defined those shoulders and back were on his husband, even under the bandages of Reaper’s previously injured shoulder. 

_And all the nightmares got to see it._

Though they also got to see the bruising on the two broken ribs they'd been suspicious of as well.

Stepping forward, Reaper cracked his knuckles before curling both sets of phalanges slightly in a mockery of claws. As he did so; however, the very ends of his fingers seemed to sharpen, darkening as the bone formed drastically curved points. Not claws then. At least, not entirely.

_Talons._

When Cross darted forward again, Reaper met him halfway and ducked under his blade to swipe at him. Formed of magic, the second's favored weapon wasn't limited to the rules a sword made of metal were bound to and appeared between Reaper's hand and the god's target, summoned from Cross' hand to stand before him as a shield.

"Huh..." Reaper murmured, watching Cross distance himself and call the blade back to his hand when it began to tip with nothing to hold it upright. "Impressive."

Refusing to falter, the second ignore the unsettling praise and gripped his sword. "Forfeit." he demanded again, knowing Reaper would refuse. _Keep the show going. Just for a little bit longer, keep Nightmare amused._

Reaper lunged forward.

It continued like that. Reaper attacking with his talon-like claws, Cross blocking, evading, and slashing with his sword. Each new cut they made on the other were bare nicks compared to what their previous weapons had accomplished. 

Nightmare grinned, "I'll have to admit, I was surprised at you, Cross. I didn't think the little glitch would be your type. Though I guess damsels in distress always intrigued you. And all that time _alone_ together?" 

Cross grit his teeth, finally realizing what he was doing. _Fucking asshole, that wasn't me-_ he dropped to the floor as Reaper swung too high with an enraged snarl. A flash of dark cyan blinded nearly everyone there when- 

Gasps echoed from the nightmares, easily covering Ink's choked sob at Reaper forcing his wings out through the damaged magic in his shoulder. 

_Shit shit shit shitshitshitshit!!!_ Cross had to work double-time to avoid Reaper's next array of attacks. His wings made him faster, more nimble, and with a single flap, Cross seemed to be lifted slightly from the decaying mat. Just enough to throw his balance off. 

_Fuck! FUCK!!_ Still, Cross tried. He sported new injuries on his calves, where he tried kicking Reaper away. On his arms, where he tried defending himself from Reaper's talons. On his back, where Reaper moved too fast for Cross to counter. _But I would deserve this death, wouldn't I? I'm too coward to even defend myself against Nightmare's claims._

_Not that anyone would believe me right now._

Growling low, Cross got himself enough distance to raggedly hiss out, "I yield." 

Error straightened his spine slightly in surprise.

For a moment, Reaper looked as if he wouldn't still his attacks. It was brief, but the pure hate that literally poured from his eyes seemed to steal away whatever sanity he had. 

He took a single step forward, bloodstained talons glistening in the light.

 _"R-Reaper!"_ Geno called, voice wavering in distress.

Sockets widening, the god dropped his hand and spun around. "Ge-"

Nightmare met his gaze, grinning. "Now that I have your attention, god, I would like you to _listen._ Stand down, little bird. You've won your match."

Cross stood tall, trying his hardest to ignore the several broken ribs and cuts he had in his ecto. Reaper shot a furious look to Cross, but also loosened his stance and stood straighter. Both faced Nightmare, who rose from his seat with four mocking claps. "Well, that was _quite_ impressive! The impromptu weapons, the magic, the _wings._ Who knew our little birdie was so talented?" His grin turned to Cross. "And don't you worry, I was impressed by you too. I thought you'd forfeit much sooner, considering your opponent was literal Death." 

Cross let his red sword fade, unsurprised when he felt the decaying magic he copied from Reaper fade with it. 

Reaper's wings ruffled, but they wouldn't de-materialize. He almost demanded Geno, but snapped his mouth shut and dropped his gaze.

Soft footsteps where the only sound as Nightmare stepped down from his throne and up to the two. "Do you want your reward, little birdie?" he asked, smiling almost warmly up at the god. "Oh, but you're quite a mess. Tsk, we wouldn't want to present you to dear Genocide like this, would we? Although..." voice lowering, he reached out and pressed his hand to Reaper's bared chest. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind. In fact, blue might be a pleasant change from _purple."_

 _Nightmare..._ Cross inwardly sighed, shoulders straight and head held high despite how he wished for nothing more than to curl up and turn away from the hateful stare that slid in his direction. "My king, you've forgotten to officially announce the victor."

Slowly, Nightmare's fingers curled until only one remained pressed against the god's flesh. "Did I...?" he murmured, dragging the single digit down to toy with the band of Reaper's pants. "Ah, I suppose I did. Nightmares," he called out, voice louder as he hook his hand in the waistband and dragged Reaper close, "today, victory goes to none other than Reaper: Our dear, little bird. Tomorrow's dinner will be held in his honor."

"What a shame that we'll have to miss it." Reaper murmured, sockets narrowed at the king unpleasant smile his words brought to Nightmare's face.

"Killer, Horror, and Endure," Nightmare continued, "you're dismissed. As for you all..." his eye slid over Cross and the trio of husbands, briefly lingering on Ink before continuing on. "...Cross, go fetch our feathered friend here his prize. Do try not to get handsy with it, though. I have too little patience to bother with waiting out your fun."

Frustration raged beneath Cross' shields, but he merely bowed his head to murmur, "Yes, my king," and left. 

Nightmare didn't let Reaper go though, but instead turned his gaze to Error and Ink. "Aren't you going to congratulate the god?" 

Error stood, murmuring, "Will he be allowed healing cream, as well as the right for us to take Geno home?" 

"And lose the well-earned scars of this fight? My my Error, don't you want to remember his victory?" 

"I'll remember it when we leave with Geno." 

Nightmare's smile stayed steady, though he flicked his gaze to Ink. "And you, artist? So involved in this fight as you were, that you made yourself bleed?" 

Ink kept his gaze down, murmuring, "Yes..."

"Yes, what?" 

"Yes, m-my king." 

Error narrowed his sockets slightly on Nightmare. _The fuck are you doing…?_ though that sense of dread Error had been feeling this whole time seemed to worsen. 

"Huh. Better. Rise, the both of you, and join the bird in waiting for Geno's arrival." Nightmare watched Error stand with no problem, while Ink tried to cover how much pain he was in from the…. How many broken ribs? And the worst of the cuts and slashes that both Reaper and Cross made upon each other, which mirrored themselves onto Ink's bones. 

Reaper started to move towards them, stopped by the hand gripping his waistband still. "So eager to leave my side, aren't you, little bird." 

With his wings out, Reaper was unable to hide the unsettled feathers, nearly akin to a dog raising it's hackle, though he said nothing in response. His gaze washed over his other two husbands, horror building within himself as he saw Ink and the injuries. 

"Oh don't you worry. Seems our artist got a little too _involved_ in the fight," Nightmare purred to Reaper.

Nausea churned within Reaper as Ink’s shirt continued to darken with blood. _That... that’s my fault..._ The slash across his chest, ruining a majority of Ink’s top... 

Fingers caressed his hip, dipping into his waistband again to feel out the smooth, unscarred ecto there. “Pretty, isn’t he?” Nightmare murmured, watching alongside the god as Ink bled. “Shame he doesn’t bleed all those lovely colors of his.”

 _Ink..._ Reaper watched him with worried, regretful eyes. _Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m... I’m so sorry..._

How could he be so careless? Shit, Reaper knew his temper could be terrible once pushed, but- 

Nightmare pressed his weight his side, uncaring of the broken ribs he was leaning into. “Your regret is delicious, little bird. But don’t worry, I’m sure the artist forgives you for putting his well-being behind dear, little- oh.” He smiled. “Speak of the devil.” He murmured, eyes on the closed doors. 

Seconds later, three knocks sounded.

“Enter, Cross. Let the victor see his little prize.”


	63. Who Said Victory Was Sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the husbands get their reward and are finally welcomed back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger Warning** : Blood, mpreg, implied rape/abuse

Ink gripped his shirt to still the sharp pain brought on from Nightmare leaning into his- into _Reaper's_ broken ribs. He, along with Reaper and Error, looked to the doors as they opened. 

Cross entered, pushing Geno in on a wheelchair. Nightmare's second was wheezing slightly against the pain, presumably to get Geno into the chair. Ink knew he'd strained his sternum, with the pain radiating sharply and the blood seeping into the new shirt he wore. 

Reaper's eyes were on Geno. And on how limp and unresponsive he was.

“Ge...Geno...?” He called, trying to catch his first’s eye. “Honey...?”

 _Something’s wrong..._ Geno wasn’t- he-! “Geno?” Ink called, able to see the smaller skeleton blink from his angle but not seeing recognition in his eye. _He’s afraid...?_ but that wasn’t quite right, was it?

Geno was _terrified_ , but it was distant, as if Ink was sensing him from all the way across the castle, though he hadn’t been able to do that this entire time. The color, too... although the blinding, icy white was still visible, it was fuzzy. Foggy.

“Glitch face...?” Error tried.

Nothing.

Geno wasn’t responding. Not to Reaper, or Ink, or even his brother.

Cross stopped the wheelchair near the husbands and stepped back- 

"What did you do?" Error turned on Cross and Nightmare, dragging strings from his sockets. 

Reaper tried to pull himself away from Nightmare, still calling for Geno, but the king tightened his grip on the god. 

Ink half stumbled to their shortest husband. "Ge...?" He whispered. He reached out, gently resting his fingers on the back of one of his hands. "Geno...? Hon, p-please...?" 

Error's SOUL twisted in pain at Ink's and Reaper's voices calling out to him, but he glared at Nightmare. "We played your stupid game. We're taking Geno home now. _All_ of Geno." 

"My game?" Nightmare straightened slightly, smiling. "What game?" 

"THIS GAME!! Trying to keep us here! Hurting Geno! This fight!" A sharp, pissed look was shot Cross' way, but Error's attention soon returned to Nightmare. "We said a month. We did everything you said. _Reaper won the fight!_ It's over, Nightmare. Give us Geno's SOUL too." 

"Oh," Nightmare peeled himself off Reaper, walking deliberately towards Error, though he stopped a step away. "You must be confused. I don't blame you. That was an exciting battle, and it has been a while since the beginning of this month. You want to go home? You _all_ want to go home?" At the various nods and 'yeses', Nightmare's smile grew cruel. "You are already home, nightmares."

_“Welcome home, nightmares," Nightmare had said._

_Welcome **home.**_

As the realization dawned on Error, a look of absolute terror took hold of his expression. Weak, he stumbled back, rasping, "N-no...no! We- you-!" he choked, chest heaving with short, quick gasp. _We let ourselves get tricked. This whole time-!_ "N...n-no! Ni...N-Nig...Nnnight-"

"N...Ni...N-Nnnnnightmare!" The lord of despair mocked, a cruel smile on his face as he watched the infamous destroyer tremble before him. "You never denied it, you know? When I welcomed you all to your new home, you never argued. Not then, and not once after whenever I referred to the castle as such."

Ink blinked his sockets rapidly, pain and panic blurring his vision no matter how hard he tried to see. The tears streaming down his face didn't help the lack of clarity. "You would have punished him." he whispered, hazy sockets on the small glitch seated on the wheelchair. "If... if we argued, you would have hurt Geno." _We were playing the game. We were... we were **protecting** him by keeping quiet!_

Were they though? Everything they did, they did with Geno in mind, but one look into his blank, void socket told Ink that they failed. 

Like fools, they played the devil's game thinking the rules would be fair.

"Would I?" Nightmare purred, eye on Error even as he directed the words to Ink. "Tell me, artist, do you see the future?"

"...No." Ink whispered.

Chuckling, the lord of despair winked at Error before turning away to face Ink with a wide, wicked smile. "Then why are you so sure I would have punished dear little Gen simply for denying that my castle wasn't a home to you? I would have been... _disappointed_ to learn you didn't view my castle as a home, but I would have understood. Eventually. But you never claimed it wasn't one, did you? You never argued, so I've taken that as an acceptance that you see it as such. Honestly, it's for the best. After all..."

Smiling that beautiful, loving smile that was somehow so eerily similar to Dream's, Nightmare distanced himself from the trio of husbands. 

Unfortunately, his retreat brought him closer to Geno. "Like Cross, I've grown attached to dear, sweet Genocide. It's why I haven't punished him for his deeds, actually." Smile still in place, he ignored Ink as he reached down and lifted Geno into his arms. The slightly smaller, unresponsive skeleton's head lolled to the side, frighteningly similar to a corpse.

 _Or a doll..._ Error thought, shuddering as he recalled the life-sized creation he made for Fell what felt like forever ago. _The way the bastard's been dressing him, the... the fucking dead look in his eye..._ With the squeaker Ink snuck in, the doll of brother had more life than Geno. At least that made noise when held. Geno?

Disturbed by Nightmare's steps when he began striding to his throne, one of Geno's arms slid off his abdomen until it hung limply at his side. 

The destroyer shut his eyes, feeling ill. _What did they did do to you, Ge?_

Once he was situated with the glitch in his arms, Nightmare continued addressing the three. "I was angry at first, you know? When I walked in on them, I was _furious_ , but then I took a moment to think about it. He has his faults..." pointedly, a tendril circled the glitch over Geno's socket. "Many of them, really, but... well, he's rather _soft_ when you _convince_ him to be. And he's just so sweet. I really couldn't blame Cross for wanting a taste of his own. Not when sampling Geno is just so rewarding. Addicting, even." Curling an arm around Geno's waist, the king of the castle bodily turned the smaller's head so that their teeth hovered close. "There's just something about him that makes you keep coming back for _more."_

"You-!" Reaper began, eyes full of bubbling over hatred.

Nightmare spoke over him in a soft coo directed at the glitch. "He's always _so good for me_ when I visit. Maybe that's it? The alluring submission he shows after just a few choice words." When he spoke next, it was Reaper's voice that left his mouth, _"You're doing good, hon. You're doing so, so good, Geno,"_ he praised.

Reaper's horror grew when he managed to place the words. It felt like ages ago, but the memory was special. An intimate moment shared between himself, Ink, and Geno. _I... I said that to him. When Ink and I- stars, **I said that to Geno!**_

Thin, runny ink poured from Ink's mouth when he had the same realization, though he was unsure if it was vomit, blood, or a mix of the two. "Y-you-!" _You saw?! How? How did he-?!_

The ridge of Nightmare's nasal cavity wrinkled in disgust at Ink's mess. "Me? What about me, artist?" he questioned, voice mercifully no longer an echo of Reaper's.

When Ink spoke, more black liquid ran from his mouth. Blood then, he decided, distantly noting similar trails of purple leaking from Cross' mouth. "What did you do, Nightmare?" he demanded. "W-what... what did you do to Geno?"

"Oh, I'm sure you're all aware of what Cross _and_ I did to my lovely little glitch. If I were you; however, I'd... Well..." 

The arm around Geno's waist adjusted, shifting so that Nightmare could rest the flat of his palm over the unresponsive skeleton's stomach. 

"Let's just say that I'd be _much_ more concerned about what I _made_ with your dear, sweet husband." the king purred.

_Made...?_

It sunk into Reaper first, and with a shrill, furious snarl, he stepped forward- 

Nightmare stopped him with Geno's SOUL forming in one tendril. "I will keep my side and let you have sweet Geno back, but I need... assurance that you're not going to run away from home. Much like a parent would keep a child home with promises of desserts-" 

_"GIVE HIM **BACK**!"_ Reaper's talons flexed. 

The king tilted his head slightly, eye meeting Reaper's bottomless pits. "Impatient for your prize, are you? You see, you four- oh sorry, _five_ , also have a new room, and a new wardrobe, and a little more freedom in your home," He chuckled, leaning back to stroke Geno's face. 

Ink shuddered, growling, "This isn't our home. You _k-knew_ we never felt like this was our home-" 

"It is your home now, and if you're going to start complaining about it, I'll have to start punishing you." He smiled. "Unless you no longer want Geno? It'd be an easy choice! Stay here, and keep Geno, or leave and **I** keep Geno."

_Leave...?_

Once, Error would have taken such a deal without a single moment of hesitant. Without a care for the wellbeing of any other soul but himself, he would have gladly sacrificed the life of an abomination if it benefited him. That was the Error of the past though. Now, years later, he felt as if he should have changed. Grown, at least a bit.

Terribly, unforgivably, he found himself _tempted._

 _PJ..._ He... fuck, Error had a son at home. They already missed his birthday, damnit. Remaining here meant missing out on so much more. Scarily, it was likely that calling the castle home would steal them away from their real house and everyone waiting for them to return. Forever. _I... I can't leave Paperjam there. I can't fucking abandon him!_ PJ was smart, but young. He wouldn't understand why his parents weren't coming home.

He wouldn't know that Error wanted nothing more than to be with him.

 _Geno would forgive me_ , he thought, eyes on his brother. _He... Goth is waiting for his parents, too. Geno would forgive me- would forgive **us-** if it meant his son got at least one parent back._ It wasn't fair for his brother or his nephew, but Error knew Geno would want them to save themselves. He... he would...

_"Heh, this is kind of weird." Geno chuckled, the sound awkward and strained. "Me... you... us in general, I guess. It's strange, isn't it?"_

_"Ugh, shut up already." he grumbled, but a small smile was on his face. It was... definitely weird. But nice, too. "C'mon, glitch face. Let's try getting you out of here."_

_The shorter skeleton grinned, a little nervous but excited as well. "What happened to leaving me behind to suffer for an eternity?"_

_"Eh, where's the fun in that? If you're gonna suffer, then it'd be more amusing to see it in person." All joking aside though... "We decided on it, didn't we? Brothers. I'm not leaving you behind, Geno."_

_"...Promise...?"_

_"...Yeah," he said softly, "I promise."_

Error breathed in sharply, vision even blurrier with the tears filling his eyes. _Geno would understand. He'd forgive us, damnit. He **would.**_ And... that was the truth, actually. Geno really _would_ forgive them all for leaving him behind.

But Error would never forgive himself.

And he knew by the looks on their faces that neither would his husbands. 

"Where's our new rooms, Boss?" he whispered, damning them all with such a simple set of words.


	64. Bonus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a happy ending is promised but It’s Not That Simple... in fact, _It Was Never That Simple._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **PLEASE READ THE END NOTES!**

Dark. Everything is so dark. You're scared and it feels alone, even though you know there's got to be _someone_ else out there. But you don't see or hear anything. And you cannot sense any presences, though sensing them on a normal day was kinda shifty anyway. 

You… hear something. Something wet, but approaching. Like, the squelch of wet socks in tennis shoes on freshly dried floors.

Needless to say, the noise brings you great discomfort.

Though there isn't exactly a light, you think you see something glowing in the darkness. It… looks like a dull greenish color, but glows nonetheless. A leafy green, as one would expect when viewing shadowed trees in the summer. You see familiar slimy shapes waving around. "Hello again, friend," you can tell the speaker is grinning long before you can see the bright white teeth reflecting the colored glow of the being's magic. Understandably, fear shakes your bones, but… some thing else is there. Something brewing within you for weeks or years. At this moment, it didn’t matter. Your anger burns as hotly now as it did then. 

He notices. 

"What, are we not friends? You wanted a story, correct? Well, I needed their powers." 

"..."

The being chuckles, “You’re probably right. A selfish desire to collect more dolls for my castle. I suppose that’s closer to the truth. 

“…” you glare at him. _Of course it is!_ You think.

“Hmm…” he continues. “Oh, I see… the ‘happy ending’ tag had you thinking something else was going to happen, didn’t it?” The grin widens. “But _isn’t it?_ A happy ending, I mean. Think about it. Husbands with a new boyfriend? Brothers reunited? A new child in the mix? What about that isn’t a happy ending?” 

“...!” 

“Heh, ah, it’s the child you’re angry about? Or is it the… _oath_ I broke? Hehehe, yes, from your point of view, I suppose I can see how that isn’t very _happy_ of an ending… but for me? Well, there’s only one more thing that would make me happier.” 

“???” 

Those leaf green eyes blaze to life as emeralds. The grin looms closer to you, and the voice drops, “You want to know what, don’t you? How about you… stick around for a bit? Maybe you’ll get the answers you seek? After all… no story truly ends, even when the author or authors set down their pens.” 

Panic grips you, and the only noise you can muster is something that sounds like how “!!!” looks. He chuckles, sliding his tongue across his teeth,

_**"Are you ready?"** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of Part 1 of "Simple" series.
> 
> DON'T LEAVE JUST YET. 
> 
> WE SWEAR THIS IS GOING TO HAVE A HAPPY ENDING. IT'S GONNA TAKE SOME TIME, BUT WE STILL DO PROMISE IT. JUST... HERE, HERE'S THE NEXT STEP TOWARDS IT
> 
> Part 2: [It Was Never That Simple](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21257321/chapters/50613275)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Silently, Yours](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21049979) by [Krystal_Twi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krystal_Twi/pseuds/Krystal_Twi)
  * [Sometimes It Is That Simple](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21635809) by [Nanenna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nanenna/pseuds/Nanenna)
  * ["Simply" Some Fluff](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21951949) by [TKWolf45](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TKWolf45/pseuds/TKWolf45)




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